^  '^ijiiii  \ 


w: 

i 

' 

/n 

' 

s 

t 

f, 

\ 

■  ('' 

t: 

^i 

' ' 

m 


iUlih 


U§i'a"^\ 


iV  I 


I     1 


T 


RXITOETGH 
fttC.SEP  IBtfU 


..fi^OArf 


i^H^aA. 


/ 


y- 


Jkj^  ^MiA/Thyn^  ^iljfo-ctcvlu^ 


0-. 


^.'tiy>^(U^CH^   Jn^-<^o.   0y£/l^7^i^2^'^^ 


Ih^  (f^H^^i'^^ 


/ 


^ 


A^  POEM: 


Q^^A%mEki  FiiesSc 


GEOKGE   BUHROWES,  D.D. 

Author  of  a  Commentary  on  the  Soug  of  Solomon. 


^^jlilahlpljiii: 


WILLIAM    S.    &    ALFRED   MARTIEN. 

*  185G. 


\ 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  hy 

GEORGE  BURROWES,  D.  D., 

In  the  Clerk's  OiEce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


TO 
MRS.    S.    D.    CONNER, 

THESE    LINES 

WRITTEN    IN    LEISURE    HOURS, 

DURING   THE    PAST    SUMMER   HAPPILY    SPENT 

IN    THE   RETIREMENT   OF 

HER     OCTORARA     HOME, 

ARE    INSCRIBED    BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 

OcTOBARA,  October  1850. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arcinive 

in  2011  witii  funding  from 

Princeton  Tlneoiogicai  Seminary  Library 


littp://www.archive.org/details/octorarapoemoccaOOburr 

I 


CnntButs, 


PAOE 

OCTOBARA 9 

RETIREMENT    WITH    JESUS 79 

THE    NAME    OF    JESUS 82 

LONGING    FOR    JESUS 85 

THE    MORNING    STAR 8G 

LINES    WRITTEN    IN    A    NEW    HOME 89 

ASPIRATIONS 9] 

WHERE    I    ABIDE 94 

JESUS    OUR    REST 96 

A   LOVED    ONE    IN    HEAVED. 99 

THE    NEW    YEAR 103 


ARGUMENT. 

Summer  evening.  Twilight.  Invocation.  The  grove  around  Octo- 
rara.  View  from  the  piazza.  Rural  retirement  favourable  to  piety 
and  happiness.  Piety  the  foundation  of  lasting  friendship.  The  pious 
heart  has  most  enjoyment  in  the  beauties  of  Nature.  Sounds  at 
evening.  The  Am-ora  Borealis.  Power  of  hope.  The  Christian's 
hope  throws  great  beauty  over  the  present  world.  The  second 
coming  of  Jesus.  Millennial  blessings.  The  redeemed  with  Jesus. 
Social  converse  within  doors.  Dignity  of  the  Medical  profession. 
Sympathy  in  sorrow.  Dr.  Philip  Syng  Physick.  Parental  love  and 
faithfulness,  its  reward.  Filial  love  eminently  beautiful.  Disobedi- 
ence to  parents  requited  in  this  world.  Counsel  to  the  young.  The 
sacred   Scriptures,    their  fulness   and   excellence.     An  affecting  relic. 


'^tC.  SEP  UoM 


®([^T®lAEila 


Come    to   this   porch,    this    rustic    seat,    aud   share 
The   coolness    of  the   tranquil    summer   eve. 
The    twilight   glow,    the    quiet    heav'ns,    the    trees 
Hushed   in    the   gathering   gloom,    the    coming   stars, 
The   busy    sounds   of  day   now   sunk    to    rest. 
Are    all    in   unison   with    the   profound 
And   deep-toned   feelings   thronging   on   the   soul : 
And   that  benignant   Power   whose   love   at   first 
Pitched    all    the   harmonies    of  earth    and    heaven. 
Attuned   in   Eden   to   man's   sinless   soul. 
Has   with   our   feelings   harmonized   this   scene, 
2 


10  OCTORARA. 

That   friendship   here   may,    with   adoring   love, 
Feel   what   that   Eden   was,   what   heav'n   shall   be. 

Come,   thou   blest   Spirit,   as   the   cloud   of  fire 
On   Pentecostal   scene,    calm   as   this   eve; 
And   as   the    golden   twilight    turns    to   flame 
Rich   as   its   own   soft   beauty,   yon   dark   cloud 
Lonely   and   fading,    thou   our   spirits   melt 
Into   the   brightness   of  thy   love,    suifused 
With   the   calm   twilight   of  our   coming   heaven. 

iTow   sweet   to   linger   while   the   kindly   eve, 
With   dewy  fingers,    sheds   her   twilight   shades 
Serene   around;    as   when   the   mother's   love 
The   curtain   draws   o'er   infant  innocence, 
Shades   the   dim   night-lamp,    and   with   sleepless   eye, 
From   love   intense,    gazes   and   watches   there. 
Slow   in   the   West  the   lingering   twilight   fades; 
The   outline   of  the   woods   above   yon   hills. 
Stands   clearly   traced   on   the   back -ground   of  light; 


OCTORARA.  11 

And   through   the   pensive   willow's   trailing  boughs, 

Bright   burns    the    evening   star,  —  along   the    shades 

Embosoming   our  home,   those   flame -tipped   shafts, 

Rays   mid   the   green   more   beauteous,    through   the   soul 

Shoot   thrills   most  exquisite;    the   clustering   trees 

Gather   a   holier   atmosphere   of  shade 

More   lovely   still   as   deeper;    that   dark   beech 

Of  thick   o'ermantling   gloom;    those   ash -trees   fresh 

In   vigorous   growth;    the   locusts   deeply   rich 

With    dewy   fragrance    in    the    moon -light  June; 

The   poplar's   tulip   bloom;    the   murmuring   pine; 

The   red -bud   with   its   crown   of  blushing   flowers, 

Placed   eagerly  upon   the   brow   of  spring; 

The   towering  buttonwood;    the   cedar -grove 

Which   breaks    the   force    of  many   a   western    blast; 

That   line   of    cedars   where   the    arbour   leads 

O'er   clustered   with   the   grapes   in   fragi'ant   bloom 

And   varied   honey -suckle's   vines   and   flowers, 

And   through   the   rustic   gate   we   look   adown 

The    hill -slope    to    the    murmuriiig,    grove  -  fringed   bed 


12  OCTORARA. 

Of  Octorara;    and   this    deep    green    hedge 

Of  osage  -  orange,    with    luxuriant    shoots 

The    gate    o'erarching   and    the   grass  -  fringed    path 

To    the    farm   hamlet,    where   the    aged    oaks 

Shelter   the    grassy    dell's   sequestered    nook, 

And   gushes   the   cool   spring,   and   the   sheep-fold 

Alone   by   trees   unhid ;  —  these   spread   a   grove 

Around   this   Christian   home,   where   piety 

And   peace   may   ever   love   to   find   repose, 

And   while    enjoying   earth    prepare    for   heaven. 

Above   those    roses   blooming   through    the   year, 
That   edge   the    walk   and   fringe    the    dewy   grass, 
Where    gaze    those   weeping   willows    on    the    heavens, 
Like    graceful   widowhood   in    flowing   weeds, 
Beyond   the   wicket   with   o'ermantling   boughs 
G-rown   heavy   from   the   hedge,  —  the   scene   expands; 
We    gaze    on    mingled   fields    of  grass,    and    grain 
All    whitened   for   the   reaper's    hand,    and    groves 
Of  forest   growth   still    sacred   in    their   gloom, 


OCTORARA.  13 

And   rural    homes:    those    neighbouring,    twin -like    knolls, 

Whose   faultless   undulations    and   smooth   green 

Arrest   our   sense    of  beauty,    gently   hide 

All   save   the   roof  of  Highfield;    calm   repose 

Broods   o'er   that   seemina;   lake    with   islets    green 

And    foliage    curving    to   the   water's    brim, 

Formed    by   the    river   with    its    faint,    dull    roar, 

Where   roll    its    waters    hid   by    leafy   groves 

And   Harford's   wave -washed   undulating   hills 

With   wooded   slopes   and   varied   tillage   crowned. 

Those    peaceful    waters   brighten    on    the.  view, 

As,    in    the    cloudless    East,    the    silent   moon 

Walks   forth   in    silvery   mantle,    and   with    smile 

E'en    purer   than    the    twilight's   fading   glow, 

Lights    up    the    varied    landscape    into  joy. 

Now   like    an    angel   visitant   she    stands, 

With   kind,    full,    lustrous    eye,    behind    those    trees. 

And   through    their   boughs,    as    though    along   the    hedge 

Of  cedars    walking,    hails    us    happy    eve, 

With    tread   so    airy   on    her   quiet   way. 

The   dew-drops,   glistening,   lie   unshaken   there. 


14  OCTORARA. 

Here   eartlily   happiness   has   found   a  home; 
Mid   scenes   like   this   our   sinless   parents  dwelt, 
E'er   fell   the   curse;    and   in   this   blighted   world, 
A  wilderness   of  woe,  whate'er   of  bliss 
Yet   lingers,  —  like   the   dew-drops   when   the   sun 
Flames   in   his   noontide   heat,  that   lie   concealed 
In    deep   brown   thickets    only,  —  shrinks    afar 
From   the   hot,   garish    glare    of   fashion's    crowd. 
And   lingers   unexhaled   in    the    cool    shades 
Of  rural   quietness.       The   richest  flowers 
Of   earthly   happiness,    the    wayworn    heart 
Finds   not   along   the    hard  -  paved    streets   of   life. 
Where    selfish    vanity   throngs   in    its    pomp; 
Nor   on    the   bleak,   lone    mountain  -  cliffs    of   fame; 
Nor   where    the    restless   mind    a   traveller's    way 
Threads    weary   through   the   nations;     nay,    those    plants 
Whose    leaves    enfold    a   fragrance,    and    a    dew, 
And    healing   virtue    such   as    Eden    knew. 
Are    oftenest,    if   not   ever,    found    to    bloom 
In    the    deep    quiet   of   a   rural    life. 
Like    scanty   spots    of   green,   or   flowers   shown 


OCTORARA.  15 

111    city  -  windows,    in    the    crowded    town 

Those   joys   may    scanty    live;    but    like    the    flowers 

Which    carpet    o'er   the   prairies    of   the   West, 

They   find   their   native    region   in    the    fields 

Of   the    retired    country.       In    all    climes, 

In    every   land,    e'en   the   most   favoured   spots. 

Stand   pitiable   traces   of  the   curse. 

The    richest   soil,    e'en    Carmel   in    its   pride. 

And    Sharon's   wil(^  luxuriance   of   flowers, 

Is    but   a   shrivelled   remnant   of   what    earth 

In   beauty   was   before   the   fall,   what   earth 

Shall   be   when   Je$us   comes   again   and   reigns. 

Yet   far   less    deep   the    furrows    of   the    curse, 

In    rural    shades,    in    the    lone    wilderness. 

Than   in   the   centres   where   man   numerous   crowds. 

In   cities  largest,    deemed   most  beautiful. 

Far   less   the   miseries    God   in   justice   sends 

On    guilty   earth,    than   those    which    man    inflicts 

On   his   own   self,   and   on   earth   for   his   sake. 

And   while   the   votary   of   folly   sneers 


16  UC  TO  KARA. 

At  those   so   stupid   as   to   be   content 

With    the    dull    country;     they   in   wonder   feel 

How  petrified   the   heart   that   rests    content 

With    man's    dark   substitution    in    the    town, 

For   God's   fresh   beauties   in   the   rural   wild. 

The    country   has   its    drawbacks,    but   the    town 

More   numerous   and  still   greater;    these   the   work 

Of   man   in   his   depravity,   while   those 

Are   but  the   mingled   ills   of  Him   who   sejids 

No   deprivations   but   arc   for   our   good. 

Man    is    the    greatest    cvirse   to   man;     and    those 

Who   most   complain   of   God's   reproof   of   sin. 

Are   they  who   multiply   by   sin   their   woes. 

Of   every   happiness    on    earth   the    life 
Is   virtue;     virtue's    healthful,   vigorous    life 
Is   true   religion.       Like  the   influence 
Unseen   but   animating   nature's   growth 
In   every  tiny  thing,    all   pleasure   draws 
Its   life   from   piety  whose   spirit  breathes 


OCTORARA.  17 

From   nature's   great   Creator-    and   true   bliss 
Grows  wliere   true   piety  has   room   to   show, 
Like   trees   in   rural   landscapes,  the   true   power 
Inherent,   with    no    interfering    hand. 
Well   saw  the   Roman   sage   friendship   must   rest 
On  virtue   only  as   its   lasting  base: 
Virtue   is   adamantine,   no   decay 
Its   unmixed   purity   can    e'er   corrode. 
Like   the   foundation,  formed   of   precious   stones, 
On    which    the    heavenly   walls    of    Zion   rest 
Unshaken    ever,    friendships   thus    endure 
Thus    founded   on    the    gems   which   virtue,    truth. 
With   varied   shading,    in    one    beauty   blend. 
All   other   loves   are   specious,    castles   built 
On   the   unstable   sand,    with   tottering  base 
Which   time   unsettles   and   the   storm   o'erthrows. 
The   strongest  friendships   are   of  those   made   one 
By   common   love   to   Jesus;    virtue   this 
In   virtue's   highest,   purest   form;     their   strength 
Lies   in   their  healthful   purity   of   love; 
3 


18  OCTORARA. 

They   thus   enduring,    as   this   heavenly  love 

Breathed   into   friendships   makes   them   living   souls, 

0   deep   the   bliss   of  loving   those    who   love 

Our   common   G-od   and   Saviour;    then   the   heart, 

As   clarified   by  grace,   obtains   a   sense 

More    delicately   exquisite,    alive 

To   finer,   keener  shades   of  loveliness; 

And   friends,   thus   loved,    we   gather   to   the   heart, 

Not   only   for   their   own   inherent   worth. 

But   for  the   precious   image   which   they   bear 

Of  Jesus,   in   their   deepest   heart   enshrined. 

And   whore  blooms  fairest,    piety   that   gives 

Friendship   its   healthful,    amaranthine  hues, 

Enriches   all   the   charities   of  life. 

And   sheds   an   Eden  -  fragrance   o'er   this   world. 

So   bleak   a   wilderness,    till   all   is   filled 

With   fragrance    of  a   field    the    Lord   has   blessed? 

The   country   is   its   native   soil;    there   first. 

Without   the   gates   of  Paradise,    'twas   found 

By   earth's   first  martyr;    there,   unlike   the   child 


OCTORARA.  19 

Of  fabled   Ceres,    seized   by   gloomy   Dis, 

While    in    Trinacria's    meadows   gathering   flowers, 

And   hurried   by   his   stormy   chariot  -  steeds 

To    share   his    dismal    throne    with   god    of   hell, — 

Were   holy   Enoch   and   the   prophet   bold, 

Who   passed  in   Enoch's   car   of  fire   to   heaven, 

Culling   the   flowers   of  piety,    afar 

From   crowded   strife,    in    calm   Judea's    vales. 

The    father   of  the    faithful   fostered    there 

His   hallowed   virtues;    in   the   quiet   fields 

Did   Isaac   meditate   at   eventide; 

Judah's   great   minstrel   there   attuned   his   lyre. 

By   Bethlehem's   shaded   streams;    the   harbinger 

Of  Jesus   in   the   wilderness   abode 

Till   fitted   for   his   mission.      Sages   sought 

For  truth   of  old   in   Academus'    shades ; 

Afar   from   Athens,   on   the   sea -washed   cliff 

Of  Sunium's   promontory,    Plato's   lips 

Distilled   the   purest   truth    the    human    mind 

Could,   in   its   anxious,    restless   wanderings,    cull, 


20  OCTORARA. 

Unaided,    from   tlie   flowering   works   of  God. 

And   when    the    Son    of   God    discoursed    of  truths 

Man   had    despaired   of  finding;  when    like    rain 

His   doctrine   dropped,    his   words   distilled   as   dew; 

He   first   stood    on    the   mount   of   Galilee, 

Stood    on    its    peaceful    lake;    and    when    by    day, 

He    taught   in    Salem's    temple,    he    withdrew 

Ever  to  spend   the   night   in   prayer   to    God, 

In   the   lone   mountain;    far   from   public   gaze, 

Mid   the   secluded   brakes   of  Tabor's   cliffs, 

His   chosen   ones   his   glory   saw   unveiled 

In    heavenly   splendour;    in    a   garden,    rose 

The    vanquisher    of  death,    amid    the    buds 

Of  opening   spring;    and   from    the    rural    top 

Of   Olivet,    he    blessed   his    sorrowing   friends. 

As   in    the    Shechinah    he    passed    to  heaven. 

And    in    such   scenes   shall    they   behold    him   first. 

Who    watch    with   longing   hearts   the    coming   dawn 

Of  his    appearing   to   redeem   his   saints. 

Not   as   when   beacon  -  fires   from   steep   to   steep. 


OCTORARA.  21 

To    Argos    hetalded    the    fiill    of  Troy;* 

But   like    the    lightning  -  flash    in    midnight   gloom, 

Through    earth's   dark    valley   of  this    shade    of  death, 

Shall   the   keen   brightness    of  his    coming   flame, 

And   herald   to    his    waiting   saints   the    fall 

Of  sin's    proud    towers    and    Satan's    murderous   reign. 

In    all    the    works    of  God   the    virtuous   heart 
Has    greatest   happiness:    love    clarifies 
Our   pow'rs    from   sensual    grossness,    and    refines 
Each    apprehension;    while   within    the    soul, 
Far   down    within    our   very   heart   of  hearts, 
God's    Spirit   new    creates    a   heart    of  love, 
Which    adds    another   element    of   bliss 
To   our  whole   being,   in   the   freshened   sense 
Of  beauty,    love,    and   joy   imbedded    there. 
The   letter  written    by   a   distant   hand, 

*  See  the  brilliant  passage  in  the  Agamemnon  of  ^Eschylus,  line 
256,  describing  the  progress  of  the  beacon-lights  from  Troy  to  Ai'gos, 
announcing   the-  fall   of  Troy. 


22  OCTORARA. 

From   some   far   region,   to   the   stranger's   eye 

Has   no   great   interest,    thougt    he   may   admire 

The   beauty   of  the   hand,    and   prize   the   news: 

To   him   who    there    the    lines    of  love    beholds 

A   parent's   heart   has   traced,    that   common   sheet 

Becomes   a   fond   memorial,    often   read. 

More    prized    than   gold,    worn    nearest   to   the   heart. 

The   play- thing   of  a   dead   or   wandering   child. 

To   others   valueless,   is   more   than   gems 

To   that   parental   heart   who   feels   it   speak 

The   language   of  a   deep   and   sacred   love. 

Thus   nature's   beauties   touch   with   keener   power 

The   soul   that   feels   them   characters   of  love 

Traced   by   a   parent   in   the   far   oiF   skies. 

Thus   love   to   Jesus   new   sensations   sheds 

Through   all   our   being,   makes   each   sound   more   sweet, 

Fragrance   more   exquisite,    more   rich   each   view; 

Each   more   delightful   to   the   heart   refined, 

Where   piety,   the   highest   virtue   reigns. 


OCTORARA.  23 

How   sweet    the    sounds   that   usher   in    the    eve; 
Kindred   in   richness    with   the    mellow   light 
Of   the    declining   sun    and   twilight's   gloom. 
The   tinklings    from    the    sheep  -  fold    partly    hid 
By   yonder   oaks    and   poplar;     the    deep    low 
Of   the    impatient   heifer   for   her   young; 
The   bellowing   ox   slow   from   his   daily   toil; 
The   bark   of  Jupe   in   leisure   dignified, 
And   sober   mien,    as   though   the   manor's   lord; 
And    Scrub's   impatient   cry,    as   in    our   ride 
Along   the   avenue    of   trees,   quick   breaks 
The   rabbit   from   the   hedge   and   bounds   away 
Hid    in   the    field   of   thick   luxuriant    corn: 
The   quail    his    *'  bobwhite "    sings    amid    the   grass, 
Or   lost,    cries   sadly   for   his   wandering   mate; 
The   red -bird   whistling   in   his   lonely   bush; 
The   locust   singing   in    the    summer   tree: 
The   wood -thrush   carols   with   mellifluous   note; 
And   oft   when   homeward    bound,    'neath   leafy   oaks, 
Where   through   the   meadow   rolls   the   pure,   cool    rill, 


24  OCTORARA. 

Aud   swells   to   deeper   waters   at   the   base 

Of    the    gray   rock    o'ergrowa    with    mantling   vines 

And    downward    trailing,    have    we    paused    and    sat, 

Bridle    in   hand,    upon    the    moss  -  grown    stone 

Hard   by   the   log   a   rustic   bridge   o'erthrown; 

And   there,    with   breathless   ear,    have    drank   the   notes 

Of   the    wild   wood -thrush   in    the    thicket   hid, 

While   rich   they   fell   at   luscious   intervals, 

In    drops    of   music    mingled   with    the    dew; 

Yet   more   delightful   from   the   freshened   air. 

And   leaves,    and    grass,    and   flowers,   and    farewell    sun 

More   sweetly   smiling   o'er   the   by -gone   shower. 

And   oft,  again,    we've   breathless   paused   to   hear. 

In   hedge    or   thicket,    the    same    thrilling   strain: 

The    widowed   robin    pours    its    sorrowing   tones; 

The    exile    dove,    with   lonely,    plaintive    moan, 

Longs   for   her   native   paradise   and   heaven : 

The    thrush   high   perched   upon    a   topmost   bough, 

Rains   showering   melody   mid   falling   dews; 

The   oriole   his   luscious   warble   pours, 


OCTORARA.  25 

Speeding,    while   singing,    to   his    airy   nest; 
Pertly  the   bustling   wren    his   quick   note    sings 3 
The    humming-bird    the    honey  -  suckle's   bells 
Sips,    hovers    o'er,    and    rapid    darts    from    view: 
The    nighthawk   shooting   through    the   upper   air, 
Drops,   with   unearthly   howl   and   swoop,    to   seize 
His   prey,  amid   the   insect   horde   of  eve; 
And   having   through   the   day   slept   off   th'    effects 
Of  yesternight's   debauch,    the   sneaking   bat 
Breaks   from   his   covert   in   the   time  -  worn    eaves : 
The    swallows   whirring   from   the    chimneytop 
Their   sooty   nests   forsake   for   the   fresh   eve: 
That   mammoth   motk   with   ruby   eye,   half  bird, 
Half  butterfly,    with    rapid   heavy   hum, 
Unrolls   his    coiling   bill,    and    hovering    drinks 
Sweets   from   the   honey  -  suckle's   deepest  flower. 

Those   sounds    are    hushed:     now    eve   and   silence    reign 
Beneath-  the   moon,    whose    silvery    sceptre    sways 
A   weary,    labouring   world   to    balmy    rest. 
4 


26  OC  TO  KARA. 

This   honey  -  suckle   choice,    the   evergreen, 

With   vine   dark   crimson,    leaves   of  velvet   green, 

And   flovrers   of  rarest   mould,    of   softest   hue. 

Pours   cloying  fragrance   on   the   dewy   air. 

The   jasmine   sweetness,   the   rich   clematis 

In    greenery   and    clustering   sweets,    unfolds 

Its   bloom    pure,    dewy,    fresh   of   breathing   snow:  — 

All,    all,  —  this   balmy   fragrance,    those    sweet   sounds 

To   life   awaken    every   slumbering   sense 

Within   us   of   the   beautiful.       The   light 

Of  the   aurora   streaming   in   the   North 

Melts   with   this   blended   softness   through   the   soul : 

That   tall   and   graceful   locust   now   stands   out, — 

No   more,    as   late,   a   mass   of  heavy   gloom,  — 

In    all    its    rounded    outline,    every   bough 

And    every   leaf,    as,    through,    the    northern    light 

Shines   ray  less;    and   we   feel   as   though   a   tree, 

Airy   and   silvered,    from   some    fairy  land 

By   some    uneai'thly   hand    were    towering   there. 


OCTORARA.  27 

There    is    no    power   in    the    human    sonl 
Religion    does   not   quicken   and   refine; 
No   less   our   sense   of  beauty   than   our   love. 
Hence,    while   the   virtuous   heart   such   scenes    delight 
More   than   the   bosom   clouded   by   remorse, 
By   vice   benumbed ;    where   virtue's   highest   type, 
Piety   reigns,    they   strike    still    greater  joy 
Through   all    the    chords   of  feeling ;  —  that   delight 
Swelling   to    deepest   volume,    when    the    hope 
Of  the   believing   heart   bespeaks   these   scenes 
The    dawning   glories    of  a   blighted   world 
In   more   than   Eden's  blessedness   renewed. 

All   scenes  receive   a   colouring   from   the   eye 
Through   which   they're   viewed:    The   glass   of  varied   hue 
In   window   of  the  gothic    pile,    displays 
Landscapes   all -various   to   the   selfsame   eye, 
In   the   same   view   of  water,  wood,    and   field. 
The   soul    contemplates    nature    in    the   hues 
Thrown   over   all   things   by   the    eye    and    mood 


28  OCTORARA. 

Of  him   who   gazes :    with    a   roseate    flush 

To   some    is   all    sufi"used;     a   violet    tinge, 

A   sickly   hue    of  palish    green,    a   ray 

Of  orange    softness   fringes    all    things    o'er : 

Thus   e'en   while   gazing   with   intense   delight, 

According   to   our^  tone   of  grief  or  joy. 

The   heart   whose   eye    is,    with    the   jaundiced    film 

Of  dark,    diseased    depravity,    o'erspread. 

Sees  never  in   its   real   light   the   world. 

Nor   heav'n,    nor   duty.       But    when    grace    has    purged 

The   eyeball   of  the   soul,    no   fancy's   hues 

Longer   deceive;    and   all   things   lie   revealed 

Clear   in    the    light   of  heaven,    with   crystal    ray; 

And    the    pure    fire    of  holiness,    ablaze 

On    the   heart's   shrine,   throws   through   the   lustrous   eye 

A   brilliance   over   all,    made   sweetly   soft 

By   love's   all   tender  glow.       We   live   by   hope; 

Where   beats   the   heart  the   mainspring  of  whose  joy 

Lies   not   in   hope  ?      Our   happiness   abides 

Far   in   the   future,   on   the   sunny   isles 


OCTORARA.  29 

Of  blessedness   beyond    tbe   waves    of  deatb. 

Nor    like    tbe   beasts   tbat   perisb,    and    can    know 

No    future    and  tbe    bope   wbieb   tbereto    binds 

Tbe   boping   heart,  —  our   souls   were    formed    to    live, 

Not    for   tbe   present   only,    but   afar 

In    tbe    great   future,    an    immortal    life. 

And   bope,    a   beavenly    ancbor,    buried    deep 

In    tbe    dark    future,    makes   tbis    fragile    bark   , 

Of   eartbly   being   steadily    outride 

All    storms    of  disappointment   and    despair; 

And    feel    tbat    clearer  skies    and   bappier   scenes 

Will   yet   appear.       Our   eartbly   bappiness 

All    centres    in    our    bopes; — greater   or   less 

As    bope   is  weak    or   strong.       Witb    flattering   bopes 

Our   present   ills,    witb    cbeerfulness,    we   bear; 

And   witb    no   bopes    far   in    tbe   future    cast, 

We    feel,    wbate'er   of  present  joy  possessed, 

Our   being   narrowed,    in    tbis   desert   life. 

To    a    cramped    oasis,    witb    meagre    green 

By   tbe   sirocco   blasted  of  despair. 


30  OCTORARA. 

Witli   the   magnificence   of  hope,    our   bliss 

Becomes   magnificent :    the   lesser  hopes 

Which   bind    the   wayward    spirit   to    pursuit 

Of  earthly  joys,    are    emblems   set   to   teach. 

What  hope   in   full   development  avails. 

With   anchor   cast   within    the    vail    and    sunk 

Deep   in    the    rock    of  ages.       Earthly    hope, 

Like   other   earthly   things,    should    be    so    scanned. 

That   we   may    learn    the    latent   power   of  hope 

Which    lays    its    hold    on    heaven.       In    this    world, 

A   wilderness,    not   like    Palmyra's    waste. 

Of  marble    ruins,    but   a    desert   filled 

With   ruined  temples   of  the   Holy   Ghost,  — 

The   way-worn   pilgrim   has   a   hope   of  hopes, 

Towering   above   all   other   hopes,    as   towers 

The   morning   star   above   the   lighthouse   torch 

Blazing   upon    the    surging   midnight   sea: 

A   hope   not  frail   afud   fleeting,   but   pronounced. 

From   the   high   throne   of  Grod,    "that   blessed   hope." 


OC  TO  KARA.  31 

And   what   that  hope,  in  heav'n   esteemed   so   blessed? 
The    glorious   appearing   of  our   Lord, 
Of  Jesus   on    his   throne    of  glory,    crowned 
With   many   crowns,    no   longer   as    the   man 
Of  grief,    a  suffering  sacrifice    for   sin, 
But   come    in    pow'r   to    make    an    end    of  sin 
And    crown    with    gloiy   his    expectant   saints. 
"Behold    he    comes    in    clouds,"  —  the    glorious    cloud 
Seen   by   Ezekiel   leave   the   temple's   gate  * 
And    from    the   top    of   Olivet   ascend 
To   heav'n ;    which    on    that    top    again    received 
To    his    own    glory    our   ascending   Lord;  — 
The    Shechinah    once    more    come    down   to    earth 
There   ever   to   abide   and   Jesus   reign. 
Along   the    deathless    path    where    Enoch    rose, 
Caught   up   to   meet    Him    in    the    aii",    his    saints 
No   more    are    found,    for   God    has   taken    them,  — 
The   jewels   of  his    crown,  —  all    stilly   gone 

*  Ezekiel,  Chapters  x.  aud  xi. 


32  OCTORARA. 

At   midnight,    as   the    stealthy   thief  secures, 

E'er   breaking    morn,    the    sleeping   miser's    gold. 

A   wild   and   tearful    search   is    all    abroad, 

Fruitless,    as    those    who   for   Elijah    sought,  — 

Forgetting    they   in    car   of  fire    thus   passed. 

At    midnight,    deathless,    to   their   waiting    Lord. 

Nor   those    alone :    fresh   with    the    grass    of  spring. 

With    budding    flowerets    gemmed,    the    rounded    turf 

Of  quiet   grass   sleeps   as   at  yester   eve; 

But   from    those    caskets,    where    the    blood -bought   dust 

Of  saints    reposed,    the   jewels    are    withdrawn; 

To   human    view   those    graves    untouched,    no   need 

Of  bursting   barriers    as    when    Jesus    rose, 

Mid   garden  -  beauties   of  an    eastern    spring. 

The    first-fruits    of  the    dead,    and    proof  thus    given, 

In    liis    grave   tenantless,    he    vanquished    death. 

Of  her   peculiar   ti'easure   earth's   despoiled; 

And    as    earth's   king   in    glory    comes    to   reign, 

They    cluster   round    him,    as    the    diamonds   blaze 

On   the   brow   brilliant  of  a   conquering   king. 


-OCTORARA.  33 

The   living  vigour   of  millennial   spring 
Earth,   feels   displacing   the   primeval   curse : 
A  thousand   years   has   Jesus   come   to   reign. 
The   Prince   of  darkness   chained   in   the   abyss, 
With   his   grim,   fallen   host,    no   more   deceives 
The   suffering   nations;    nor  makes   man   increase. 
By   his   own   sins,   the   pressure   of  the   curse. 
Since   Paradise,   earth   ne'er  has   known   a   spring 
Rich  in   such   beauties   bursting   from   the   ground 
So   long   accursed;    the   solitary   place 
And   wilderness   are   glad;    deserts   rejoice 
And   blossom   as   the   rose;    Sharon   puts   forth 
Her   Eden -roses   on   the   blasted   heath; 
And   Carmel's   excellency   crowns   the   peaks 
Of  barren   mountains :    the   discoloured   air 
No   longer   dimmed   by   deadly  mists   of  sin, 
Looks   forth   in   primal   purity   of  heaven. 
Earth   with   her   flowery   herbage,    and   the   trees 
With   leaf  unfading   and   perennial   fruits, 
Drink   from   the   air   thus   clarified   first   draughts 
5 


34  OCTORAKA. 

Of  an   immortal   youth;      and   sun   and   moon, 

Th'    innumerable   stars,   with,   radiance   burn 

Brilliant   as   when   they   first  burst   forth   in   smiles, 

And   o'er  the   new   creation   sung   for  joy. 

Beneath   the   smiles   of  these   millennial   years, 

The   garden   of  our   Lord   shall   cluster   rich 

With   lilies   fresh   in   copious   heavenly   dews, 

To   the   glad   Church   a  happier  ornament, 

Than   to   the   earth   her   all  -  abounding  flowers; 

And   gathered   in    their   lily   purity, 

By   his   own   hand,   to   slumber  on   his   heart 

In   freshness   ne'er   to   fade.      As   earth   profuse 

Pours   forth   her  flowers   for   the   gatherer's   hand. 

Peculiar   to   each   season,  —  this   blest   reign  * 

Shall   have   its   spring-time   flow'rs,   its   summer  buds, 

And  flowers   of  its   sober  autumn   dews : 

These   in   full   bloom   of  piety   and   love. 

Shall   each   in   its   own   time,   be   gathered   home. 

O'er   the   wide,   troublous   ocean,    halcyon   days 

Are   calmly   slumb'ring;    the   imprisoned   storms 


OCTORARA.  35 

And   vengeful   blasts   with   fi'uitless   mutterings   fill 
Their   deep   abysmal   dungeons;    zephyr   fresh 
From    dewy   bowers,    with   train    of  laughing   hours, 
Floats   through   the   cloudless   sky,   and   fragrance   showers, 
And   flowery  plenty,   and   rose -scented   dews. 

Idolatry  is   done;    that   Moloch   grim, 
By  universal   man   for   ages   loved, 
In   spite   of  blood-stained   horrors,   murderous   war, 
No   longer   claims   his   cloud   of  worshippers. 
For   glory   seeking  mid   the   groans   and   blood 
Of  dying   millions;    this    dread   Juggernaut, 
Thrown   from   his   hideous   car,   lies   ground   to   dust; 
The   swordj    the   trumpet,   the   fire -breathing   gun 
Are   known   as   fossils   of  a  by-gone   age, 
Whose   relics,   from   the   strata  as   exhumed 
Broken   and   mouldering,    curious   tell   of  fierce 
And   savage   monsters   who   possessed   the   earth. 
Tamed   are   the   brute   creation   into   peace, 
Each   with   the   other,   and   with   man   their   lord. 


36  OCTORAKA. 

Nought   lingers   that   can   now   destroy   or   hurt 
Through   this   wide   world,    so   long   the   seat   of  death, 
God's   holy   mountain,   where   Messiah   reigns : 
The   promise   of  th'    angelic   host   fulfilled, 
On    earth   a   boundless   peace,    good -will   to   man. 
Like   the   last   remnant   of  a   summer   shower. 
When    with   his    streaming   rays   the    evening   sun 
The    freshened   landscape   floods,    and   low  the   clouds, 
But   late   all   scowling,   in   th'   horizon    sunk. 
Are   seen   no   longer,    save   a   low   dark   line 
Around   the    circling   East;    thus   sin's   dark   shades. 
For   ages    scowling   o'er   the   guilty   world. 
With   shafted   lightning   and   the   thunder's   roll, 
Furrowing   all   nations   with   the   sweeping   curse, 
Are   gone,    save   where   in   far   Siberian   wilds. 
Faint   clouds   are   lingering   yet,    as   o'er   the   marsh 
Its   deadly   exhalation.      The   wide   earth, 
A   camp   of  saints   where   their   Jehovah   dwells 
Amid   the   cloud   of  fire,    which   Israel's   hosts 
O'ershadowed    ojlorious   in   the   wilderness. 


OCTORARA.  37 

Around   this   tlirone,    curtained    with   living   light, 

Of  Christ   the   king   of  glory,    crowd   the    host 

Of  angels   gathered   over   Bethlehem's   plain. 

When   round   the   midnight   shepherds   glory   shone, 

A   soldiery   all   meet   t'  escort   and   guard 

In   bright   immortal   armour   Zion's   king. 

Amid   that   splendour,    like   the    chosen    three 

With    the   translated   prophets    on    the    mount 

With   Jesus   when    transfigured,    stand    a   host 

No    man    can    number    of  all   tribes    and    tongues, 

Clothed    in    white    raiment,    with    palms    in    their   hands, 

With    crowns   of  gold,    and   on    their   breast   a   star 

Emblem    of  royalty,    and    mid   its   rays 

Set   a   white   stone   with   an   inscription   traced 

By   God's   own   hand,    which   none   can   understand 

But  him   who   bears   it;    while   with   harps   of  gold, 

As    sound    of  many   waters    and    the    voice 

Of  harpers   harping   with    their   harps,    they   sing, 

"Salvation    to   our    God,    and   to   the    Lamb 

Who   made   us   kings   and   priests   through   his   own   blood." 


38  OCTORARA. 

Around   them   stand   tlie   glad   angelic   host 

As   an   encircling   crown.      What  these?    and   whence? 

Past   the   first   resurrection:    Blessed   he 
Who   in   its   triumph   shargd;    for  they   shall   reign, 
Through   endless   ages,   kings   and   priests   to   God. 
These   are   the   blessed   host   redeemed   from   earth, 
O'er   death   triumphant,    with   their   bodies   changed 
Alike   the   glorious   body   of  their   King; 
Who,    as   the    angel    standing   in    the    sun. 
High    on    his    throne    and   crowned   with   many   crowns, 
Sits    King   of   Zion,    mid    that   cloud    of  light; 
And   they,    first   of  creation,   round   him   stand 
Circling,  —  the   household   of  the   King   of   kings, 
With   coronets   unfading,  jpeers   of  heaven. 

This   is   the    Christian's   hope,  —  that  blessed   hope; 
And   may   it   well   entrance   our   care-worn   souls, 
And   make   more   happy   earth   by   hope   of  heaven, 
All   centring   in   the   bright,    the   morning   star, 
Jesus   the   harbinger  and   pledge   of  heaven. 


OCTORARA.  39 

The   lingering   twilight   fades:    within   we   seek 
A   covert   from   the   damp'ning   evening   air, 
On   sofa   and   the   old   arm-chairs,   where   drawn   • 
In   friendly   circle,    conversation   pours 
The   mingling   streams   of  feeling  into   one, 
And    that   a  swelling   tide   of  happiness. 
Nor   break   by   candle -glare   the   sacred   gloom. 
In   which,    with   day's   decline,    the   heart   of  friend 
Loves   best   with   friend   to   converse;    while   the   chirp 
Of  the    fall -cricket    from    the    grassy    field, 
With  the    sharp    chorus   there    of  living   things. 
Blends   pensive   with   the   cricket   on   the   hearth; 
And   for   the   katy-did,    child   of  the    dews. 
Chaste,    shrilly   musical,   the   willow's   shades 
And   silvery   moonlight   seem   a   fitting  bower : 
While   the   intrusive   owl   in   darkness   pours 
The    dreary   murmur   of  his    lone    complaint. 
A   fitting   time   to    dwell    on    faded  joys; 
On    friends    departed,    still   full    fondly   loved; 
On    coming   bliss,    and   a    reunion    where 
The   day  breaks   and   the   shadows   flee   away. 


40  OCTORARA. 

These   halls   are   rendered   sacred   by   tlie   shade 
Of  one   whose   greatness   has   a   lustre   thrown 
No   less    around   his    country   than   his   home. 
No   nobler   benefactor   of  his   race, 
Than   he   whose   powers   and   life   are   spent   to   soothe 
The   sorrows   of  humanity,    and   make 
One    less    the    serried    evils   of  the    fall. 
Could    earthly   calling   higher   honour   gain, 
Than   when   with   man   God   sojourned   in   the   flesh, 
He   lingered   with   the   suifering   poor,    and   healed 
Their   sicknesses,    and   their   diseases   bore, 
Himself  the   great   Physician?      And   the   pen 
Which   traced   with   classic   grace   our   Saviour's   deeds, 
Was   held   by   the   beloved   physician's   hand. 
On    this   all-honoured   calling,    Physick's   name 
And   virtues   have   unfading   lustre   shed. 
E'en   darkened   pagan   reason   felt   the   truth 
The   art   of  healing   sprung   from    heav'n,    its    due 
The   highest   honour;    since   its   patron  %od* 

*  .^sculapius. 


OCTORARA.  41 

CMld   of  Apollo,    spring   of  light   and   life, 
God   of  the   lyre,   soother   of  human   woes. 
Its   votaries   in   every   age   have   shown 
The   noblest  virtues :    in    the   shades   of  death, 
When   arrows   tipped   with   death   fill   the   hot   air 
With   ghostly   darkness,   soldiers   at   their  post 
Of  duty  faithful;    and   with   fearless   eye, 
Keeping   at   bay  the   king   of  terror's   host. 
Or  martyrs   falling  in   the   noblest   cause;  — 
With   purer   courage,   than   when    Spartai's   sons 
Withstood   the   Persian   horde,   beneath   the   shade 
Of  hostile   arrows,    their  funereal   pall.  * 
I   e'er   regret   to   see   such   men,   with   hearts 
Beating  with   such  high   feelings,   not  possessed 
Of  what  alone  is  wanting  to   complete 


*  Dieneces  the  Spartan,  at  Thermopyloe,  on  being  told  by  a  Tra- 
cMnian  that  the  Persian  host  were  so  numerous  as  to  pour  forth  a 
shower  of  arrows  sufficient  to  obscure  the  sun,  replied,  "We  shall 
then  have  the  advantage  of  fighting  them  in  the  shade." — Herodotus, 
7.  226. 

6 


42  OCTORARA, 

Natures   so   noble,   heaven -born   piety; 

To   see   two   callings   thus   allied,    divorced, 

The   good   physician   not   a   pious   man. 

In   human   ills,    some   sufferings   have   their   seat 

Less   in   the   body   than   the   mind ;    when  sink 

The   spirits,   sinks   the   body;    and   no   care 

Or   skill   medicinal   can   heal   the   ill. 

There   is   no   sickness   of  the  heart   but   yields 

To    Siloa's   cooling   waters,    Gilead's   balm; 

The   panacea   of  all   human   woes 

Is   Scripture   truth;    and   to   administer 

Aright  this   medicine   to   a   mind   diseased, 

But  little   skill   is   needed   save   a   heart 

Which   has   experienced   its   healing   power. 

Kind   words   are   not   expensive   things;    soon   said; 

Nor   make   the   poorer  him   who   gives;    and   rich 

In   more   than   gold   can   buy,   him   who   receives. 

A   few   plain   words   spoken   with   feeling   tone; 

The   faltering   accent;    eye   suffused   with   tears; 

The   sorrowing  look   more  eloquent  than   words; 


OCTORARA.  43 

The   kind    and   gentle   pressure   of  tlie   hand 

Bespeaking   sympathy  when   language   fails  j 

The   silent  finger  pointed   to   a   verse 

Of  comfort   on   the   Scripture's   opened   page, 

While   feeling   checks   our  utterance   and   finds 

Our  best   words   weakness   with   God's   truth   compared;  — 

These   are   but   little   things,   yet   touch   the    spring 

Of  life    and    feeling   with    reviving   power, 

In   their   most   tender   depths;    and    n'er   the    heart 

Forgets   the   kindness   and   the   giver's   love. 

In   foreign   lands   the   missionary's   power 

Has   greater  strength,   when   the   physician's   skill 

Goes   with   his   pious   knowledge   hand   in   hand: 

And   here,   when   he   who   heals   the   body's   pangs, 

Soothes   the   parched   fever   of  the   leprous   soul 

And   aching   heart,   with   Zion's   sacred   oil 

And   living   water   from   the   fount   of  life ;  — 

Two -fold's  his   blessing,  —  not   alone   as   man, 

But   as   an   angel   minist'ring   from   heaven. 

Hence   fewer  ties   are   stronger,   than   the  bond 


44  OCTORARA. 

Between  •  the   ctild   of  suiFering  and  the   man 
Who   heals   the   body   and   has   cheered   the   heart- 
Thus,   with   an   all -devoted   love   the   soul 
Clings   to   the   Saviour,   when   his   healing  power 
Cleanses   the   heart  from   sin,   speaks   words   of  peace. 
Makes   our  vile   body  glorious  like   his   own. 

A  man   to  greatness  bom,   of  noble  mien;  * 
His   was   a  head   that  Phidias   would  have   loved 
In   marble   of  Pentelicus   to   mould; 
A   brow   on   which   Apollo   had   enstamped 
His   own   paternity;    and   while   his   lute 
Drew   the   wild   tenants   from   their  mountain   lairs. 
Amid   the   feathery  pines,   to   list   his  lay;  f 
The   words   of  wisdom,   in   a   richer   tone, 
From   Physick's   lips   distilling,    drew  from   far 
The   noblest  youth   and   highest  minds   to  hear, 

*  Dr.    Philip   Syng  Physick. 

f  See  the  very  beautiful  Choral   Ode  in  the  Alcestis  of  Euripides, 
line  590. 


OCTOEARA.  45 

And   hearing   drink   in   wisdom,   while   they   felt 

Them   honoured   at   his   feet   to   sit   and   learn. 

He   nothing   touched   which   did   not   thence   receive 

More  beauteous   lustre   and   a   finished   grace. 

Throughout   his   character,   the   reigning   charm 

Was   chaste   simplicity   and    classic   grace. 

All   artificial   tricks   his   soul   abhorred; 

Such   flimsy   tinsel   left  to   little   minds: 

No   visionary  theories;    no   high 

And   sounding   phrases;    no   desire   with   charm 

Of  novelty   to   strike   the   wondering   world. 

He   had   the   hardihood   to   disregard 

Follies   and   fancies   sanctified   by   age : 

Sweeping   away   the   cobwebs   of  the  schools, 

His   mind's   keen   eagle -eye   gazed   unobscured 

Into   the   depths   of  nature;    while   the   strong 

And   muscular  reliance   genius   feels, 

Led   forward   with   unfaltering  tread   in   paths 

Yet  unexplored   by   science,   with   the   lamp 

Of  inward  wisdom  guided :    when   small   minds 


46  OCTORARA. 

Turned   on   that   tliresliold   pale,    like   strangers   seen 

By   Pilgrim   fleeing   from   the   vale   of   death 

By   shadowy  forms   appalled,   he   onward   moved 

Calm,    confident   in    panoply   of  truth, 

And   bringing  back,   like   Great -heart,    trusting   lives 

Turned   by   his   guidance   from   the   jaws   of  death. 

All   bent   to    claims   of   duty;     at    the    shrine 

Of  truth   he   humbly   kneeled;    when   duty   called 

E'eu   to   the   moment  punctual;    choicest   thoughts 

Dropping   in   limpid   cadence   from   his   tongue, 

In   words    no   criticism   could   improve, 

Embodied   fitly  wisdom   from   a  mind, 

One   of  the   few  whose   instincts   wisdom   seem, 

By  labour,   culture,   patient   thought   refined. 

In   his   appearance,   actions,   words,   there   reigned 

A   harmony  without   a  jar;    his   mind. 

His   manners,   and   his   intercourse   with   men. 

All   took   their   colouring   from   a  heart   that   felt 

The   depth   of  human   woe,    and   to   the   work 

Of  its   alleviation   sobered   came. 


OCTORARA.  47 


All   that  before   him  stood,    his   greatness   felt; 

His   quiet   dignity   all   triflers   awed. 

That   noble   mien   no   smile   unmeaning   marred; 

Yet  when   a   real  joy   his   brow   illumed, 

No   beauteous   woman   smiled   with   sweeter   grace. 

A   self-control   no   crisis   could   disturb; 

And   calmest,   when   the   life   most   valued   hung 

On   his    quick  judgment   and   his   steady  hand. 

While   this   cool   self-possession   took   the   air, 

To   strangers,    of  indifference   to   woe, 

'Twas   heaven's   especial   gift   which   equal   made 

His   spirit   for   his   work;    beneath,    there   beat 

A   heart   of  sympathies    genial    and    warm, 

With   keenest   feeling   for   another's   pain. 

And   little   would   the   casual   gazer   think. 

That   form   so   cool   amid   the   deepest   griefs. 

Felt  keener   than   a   woman's   heart  the   pangs 

Duty  inflicted,    and   in   secret  bled 

More    freely   than    the    nearest   friend,    to   view 

The   sorrows   of  humanity  he   healed. 


48  OCTORARA. 

His   hand  was   ever  ready  at   the   call 

Of  needy  sorrow;    and   his   heart   bestowed 

His   priceless   services   with   real  joy. 

He   had   no   time   to   trifle,    and   no   heart 

To   deal   in  jests,   when   sorrow   thronged   his   door, 

And  woe   in   tears   stood   crying  for  relief. 

More   than   a  Roman   virtue  he   possessed; 

For   Roman   virtue   lacked   the   element 

Which   quickens   virtue   into   noblest   life, 

Which   leavened   his   with   beauty,    Scripture   truth. 

His   spotless   moral   excellence   diffused 

An   influence   round   him,   like   a   cloud   of  light, 

Offspring   of  piety,    without   whose   crown 

All   moral   virtues   are   a  headless   trunk, 

Th'   Apollo  Belvidere   without  the   head. 

In   surgery  he   did   a   work   no   less 

Than   Washington   had   done   in   civil   life;  — 

Father   of  surgery   in   this   western   world. 

On   earth   no   mission   nobler   than   to   rear. 

In  this  great  country,   at  its   primal   growth, 


OCTORARA.  49 

A  temple   like   Bethesda's,    where   disease 

May  find   a   sheltering   porch   and   healing   pool. 

He   the   foundation   laid   with   faultless   skill; 

And   o'er   his   work   time   gathers   no   decay. 

With   blessings   from   the    suflFering   was   his   path 

Made   glad   through   life,    and   in    declining    age : 

America's   great   surgeon,  —  in   the   hearts 

Of  youth    to   usefulness    and   greatness    formed 

By   his   example   and   his   voice,    now   found 

Highest   in  influence,   and   in   the   hearts 

Who  with   relief  from   suff"ering   link   his   name,  — 

Has   his   true   monument;    which   shall   endure 

When   marble   moulders,    while   undying   burns 

The   gratitude   of  loving   hearts   in   heaven. 

In   this   delightful   landscape,    deep   embowered 
Mid   trees   luxuriant,   grass,    and   vines,   and   flowers, 
This   home   reposes   smiling;    all   combined 
To   form   a   setting   for   those   precious   gems, 
Priceless   beyond   what   ought   on   earth,  too   mean, 
7 


50  OCTORARA. 

Rubies   or  gold,   could   purchase;    held   so   dear 

By   Him   who   gave,    that   He   their   purchase   paid 

By  sacrifice   of  heaven   and   his    own   blood; 

Diamonds   to   show   not   the   sun's   sickly   ray, 

But   to   reflect   th'    elFulgence   of  that   light 

Which   is   Jehovah's   glory,  ,and   to   blaze 

When   earth   with   all   its   crowns   and   precious   things 

Are    crumbled   down   to   ashes,   as   the   gems 

Of  heaven's   crown   of  glory,   Jesus'    throne. 

In   leading   children    to   the   cross,    we   take 

The   most   efi"ective   means    to   bind   their   hearts 

Most   strongly   to   our   own.      Who   Jesus   loves 

With   best   affection,   best   affection   gives 

To   those   who   lead   them   to   that   Saviour's    love. 

And   when   the   living  waters   from   the   spring 

Of  Jesus'   love,   pure   through   the   channels   wind 

Of  feeling   and   affection,   they   refine. 

And   clarify,    and    nourish   into    life 

Healthful   and   vigorous,    all   inferior   loves. 

Still   dearer  children    when   in   Jesus   loved; 


OCTORARA.  51 

Each   lies   upon   the   heart,   a  beauteous   star, 
Light   of  our   being,   beauty   of  our   joy: 
And   as   that   little   image   of  the   friend 
On   whom   we   gaze,    seen   deep   within   the   eye, 
Sends   through   our  being   feelings   of  delight; 
When   on   them   rests   the   heart   with   fondest   gaze, 
Their   image    exquisite    drawn   in    the    soul, 
Amid   the   crystal   waters   of  the   spring 
O'erflowing  full   with   deep   parental   love, 
Feeds   our  whole   being  with   perennial   bliss 
Known    only   to   the   faithful    parent's   heart. 
Their   aspirations   nobler   than   when   Rome 
The   mother   saw  without   denial   claim 
The   crown   imperial   for  her   son   from   heaven: 
At  their  request   a   crown   of  light   awaits 
In   heaven   each   brow   of  our   beloved   sons. 
And   as   the   goddess   when   her   wandering   child 
And   friend,    in   stranger   land   their   dangerous   way 
To   the   imperial   walls   of  Carthage   urged, 
Mantled   them   with   a   cloud   of  mellow  light 


52  OCTORARA. 

More   beauteous   making   all   things,    wtile   unseen 

Secure   they   walked   in   this    encircling   shield; 

So   shall   our   prayers    a   richer   cloud    of  light, 

Of  God's   eternal   light,    draw   round   our   sons, 

With   favour   compassing   as   with   a   shield. 

While   thus   they   pass   through   powerless   hostile   hosts 

And    enter   the    metropolis    of   heaven. 

The    faithful   parent's   prayers    can    realize 

More   than   by   ancient   fable   ever   dreamed 

In    Leda's   sons    raised   to    the    starry   sphere, 

There   shining   glorious   through   each   passing   age: 

Translated   from   the   earth,    not   in   the   flash 

Of  empty   fancy,    but   by   Enoch's   Grod, 

These   sons   twin   stars   shall   burn   amid   the   sky 

Which    crowns    with    starry   gems   the   throne   of  God 

In   constellations   numberless   of  hosts 

Of  clustering   angels   and   of  souls   redeemed. 

And   like   those   stars   unseen   by   common   gaze, 

But   to    the    eye    of  science   full    disclosed 

Revolving   in   harmonious,    endless   round, 


OCTORARA.  53 

Blending  the   rays   of  different   light   and   spheres 

Alternate   in    a   unison    of  light, 

Of  beauty,   and   of  motion;    shall   these   souls 

In   holy  beauty   luminous,   with   shades 

Of  blending   feeling   differing   as    light 

Seen   white    and    roseate    in    some    double    star, 

Shine    in    the    firmament   of  the    new   heavens, 

More   beauteous   than   when   with   optic   glass, 

Science    all   breathless   lingers    on    some    star, 

A    double    system   in    remotest   skies. 

The    souls   of  pious   families   on    earth, 

Transformed    from    darkness   to   the   wondrous   light 

Of  Him   who  burns   in   heaven   the   morning   star, 

Transferred   to   heaven   by   Jesus,    ever   shine 

The    constellations    of  that   glorious   world; 

And    mid    their   children    circling   round,    bright   burns 

The   parent,    as   the    star   that   brightest   gems 

The    starry   circlet   of  the    Northern    Crown. 

There   hapjjy    they   who   at   His   feet    can    say, — 

HerO;   Lord,   am  I,   and   children   whom  thou  gavest. 


54  OCTORARA. 

The   busy   crowds   who   bear   the   toil   of  life 
With   buoyant   hearts,    are   in   their   labours   cheered 
With   hope   of  gaining,    in   declining   age, 
A   home   with   calm   repose   in   rural   ease. 
For   this   the    student   threads   his   midnight   path, 
With   lonely   lamp,   through   labyrinthine   lore; 
The   seaman   braves   the   tempest -heaving   waves, 
And   treacherous   dangers,    pestilential   death; 
The    soldier   marches    calm   to    lingering   wounds ; 
And   in   the   tedious   furrow,   oft   the   swain 
Recruits   his   flagging   steps  with    distant   hope 
Of  home   and   rest   in   his   enfeebled   years. 

Of  earthly   happiness   the   corner-stone 
Lies   in   domestic   bliss;    the   mutual   love 
Of  wife   and   husband,   when,    congenial   souls, 
They   blend   in   one,    while   round   them   freshly  twine 
The   budding   tendrils   of  warm   childhood's   heart, 
Sweeter   than    fragrance   of  the   blooming  grape 
O'er   summer  -  meadows,    drawing   closer  thus 


OCTORARA.  55 

The   hearts   parental,   and   th'    autumnal   hues 

Of  mellow   age   with   clusters   making   glad 

Of  filial   virtues;  —  this   the   purest  joy; 

The   spring   whose   crystal   waters   freshness   give 

And   life   to   every   other  joy;    the   root 

Which   cankered,    all   the   growths   of  happiness 

Must   fall   into   "  the   sere   and   yellow   leaf. " 

In   the   Creator's   image   formed,    man   stands 

A   living   mirror   shadowing   forth   the   truth 

The    full   perfection   of  Jehovah's   mind. 

Else   e'er   unknown.      Nor   can   our   soul   conceive 

How   creature   greater   dignity   can   crown. 

Than   thus   the   eternal   Maker's   likeness   bear 

As   our   great   end   of  being;    and   our  joy 

Is   found   in   mirroring  thus   the   Almighty's   praise. 

Parental   love   is   rooted   in   the   soul, 

That   we   may   have   a   teacher   in   our   heart, 

Showing  with   each   pulsation   how   God   loves 

His   creatures,   sons;    connubial   love   unfolds 

The   love   of  Jesus   for  his   ransomed   Church. 


56  OCTORARA. 

In   cherishing   these   loves   we   therefore   find 

A   pleasure   more   than   earthly,    the   designed 

And   exquisite   memorial   sent   from   heaven, 

And   lodged   within    the   human    heart,    to   show 

The   blessedness   of  God   in   his   pure   love 

To   those   whose   being   from   his   own   has   sprung 

The  joy   within   our   heart   which   thus   can   teach 

Our   souls   th'    eternal    Spirit's   happiness 

In   loving   his   own   sons,    must   be   refined 

And   priceless :    As   the   diamond   not   the   rock 

Shows   light   how  beauteous,    and   its   lustre   sheds 

In   deepest   darkness;    in   the   human   soul. 

Love   conjugal   and   love   parental   shine 

Diamonds   amid   inferior  gems,    and   show 

In   error's   midnight  where   no   Scripture   truth 

Has   shed   a  ray,    what   is   the   radiant   love 

Of  God   the   sun   of  glory  for   his   sons.    • 

As   we   our'  children   love,    thus   God   loves   those 

Made   through   redeeming  blood   the   sons   of  God : 

And    never   can    the    child   who    fails    in   love 


OCTORARA.  57 

To   eartlily   parent,    due   affection   feel 

For   God,    the   Father   who   his   being   gave. 

Well   may   we    hoard    this   love,    and   prize    its  joy 

The   richest   blessing   of  all   earthly   bliss. 

Where   is   the   heart   that   beauty   cannot   touch  ? 
Nought   leaves   Jehovah's   forming   hand,    till   shaped 
And    coloured    into   beauty :    nor   alone. 
Deep   in   the   farthest   heav'ns   where   light   assumes 
Shades   the    most    exquisite;    where    rolling   clouds, 
In   golden    grandeur,    throng   the    setting   sun; 
Where   the   grim   gust   fades   into   rainbow   hues; 
Nor   where   profuse   variety   inweaves 
The   flowery   carpet   over   tropic   plains. 
And   loads   the   trees   with   bloom,    the   air  with  balm;  — 
Is   beauty   traced.      It   gushes   in   the   rill; 
Sighs  in   the   breeze;    mantles   the   moss-grown   rock; 
Breathes   from    the   tinted    flower's   precious   urn; 
And    in    the   pebbles    which    dull    folly   spurns. 
Beams   in   the   sapphire,    in   the   ruby   burns. 


58  OCTORARA. 

But   what  this   beauty   of  material   things? 

The   mantle    o'er   an   inward   beauty   thrown, 

The   spiritual,    the   moral,    a   far  spring 

Unseen   but   known,   as   the    lone   fount   whose   stream 

Is   traced   in   the   rank   verdure :    Thus   the   soul 

Is   living   beauty   of  the   human   form; 

Thus   God's   creation's   beauty,    glory,    life. 

As   beauty   of  the   heart   transcends   the   flush 

Of  frail   corporeal   beauty,    lingers   on 

Undimmed,    when   mortal   loveliness   decays  j 

All   moral   beauty,    flush   of  soul,    excels 

The   richest   beauty   of  material   things. 

No   earthly   thing   more   beauteous   than   the   home 

Where   loves   of  parents,    children,    sweetly   blend, 

Difi"erent   in   nature   as   the   rainbow's   hues, 

But  needed   each   to   form   one   perfect   ray. 

On   such   a   scene   the   eye   rests   with    delight 

Calm   mantling   at  the   heart :    as   beauteous   shades 

Are   finer   and   more    pleasing   in    the    flower 

Than   in   the   pebble;    most   refined    in   light, 


OCTORARA.  59 

Where   matter  gently  into   spirit  fades 

As    link    connecting;    so    the    spirit's    powers, 

By  grade   ascending,   beauty  still   disclose 

Yet  more   ethereal,   yielding   keener   joy. 

But   in   the   temple   of  the   human   soul,  — 

The   holiest  place   the   inmost   shrine,    the   heart 

Of  our   whole   being,    nearest   love   to   God, 

Is  love   parental;    which   the   emblem   stands, 

The   oracle,    th'    interpreter  to   man 

Of  Grod's  pure   love,  —  Himself  is   light   and   life. 

Virtue's   the   highest  beauty;    and   of  earth 

The   highest  virtue   is   the   duteous   love 

Of  child   to   parent.      Memory  joys   to   hoard 

Such   scenes   when   met   with   in   this  jarring  world; 

Nor   greater  ugliness   appears   than   harsh, 

Unfilial   conduct:    memory   retains 

Enstamped   such   harshness,   as   a   monster's   form 

Is  graved   indelible   upon   the    mind. 

The   greatest  monster's   an   unfeeling   child; 

A   duteous    child   the   greatest    earthly  joy. 


60  OCTORARA.        / 

Of  every   virtue   tbis   the   vital   root; 

Of  every   happiness   the   primal    spring. 

A   lawless   son,    whatever   else   of  good 

Possessing,    ne'er   can   make   a  virtuous   man. 

His   so   called   virtues   are   the   fruit's   crude   germ 

In   spring   time   fair,   but   fallen   in   decay 

E'er   ripening   summer,   with   a   canker   lodged 

Deep   in   the   core,    with   numerous   fading   leaves, 

E'er   autumn,   telling   death   unseen   at   heart. 

No   virtue   e'er   can   ripen   in   a   heart, 

Where   at   the    core,    parental   disrespect, 

A   cankering   worm,   hideous   and   deadly   lies. 

When   by   the   death -bed   of  the   parent,   stands 

The    child,    and    holds    now'  cold    in    death    the    hand 

That  ne'er   to   him   was   stretched,   but   to   extend 

And   act   of  kindness,    and   his    faltering   steps 

Upheld   in   infancy;    and   feels   perchance 

Those   hands   now   hardened   with   the   anxious   toil 

That   sheltered    him    from    want   in    childhood's   years; 

And   sees   those   eyes   are   dim,    tho^e   lips   are   pale, 


OCTORARA.  61 

Where   nought  had   dwelt  but   looks   and   words   of  love; 

Then   e'en   the    child   most    dutiful   will   find 

More   than   enough   of  failures   in   his   love 

And   duty   to   the   parent,    to   distress 

His   heart,    and   from   his   eye   wring   bitter   tears. 

But,    0    the    agony,    when    there   the    child 

Stands    self- convicted   of  unkind    neglect. 

Of  wilful    disobedience,    and    that   heart 

In    secret   oft   with   keenest   anguish    wrung. 

Repentance   then   and   tears    can    ne'er   avail; 

Nought   but   remorse    and   anguish    are    his   lot, 

And   retribution   slow   but   coming   sure. 

No   retribution   surer   than   for   sins 

Against   parental   love:    with    lagging   foot. 

But   deadly   sureness,    creeps   the    coming   curse. 

And   when   long   years   have   passed;    and   the   old   home 

Is    nigh   forgotten;    and   those   grey    hairs   gone 

In    sorrow   to   the    grave ;    the   bitter    cup  ' 

The    child   held   to    the   parent,    is    in    turn 

Drunk   by   that   child   e'en   to   the   very   dregs, 


62  OCTORARA. 

Presented   by  the   hand   whicli   wrote   the   law, 
"What   measure   ye   have   meted,    shall   again 
To   you   be   measured."     That  same   hand   requites 
Good   measure   heaped   together,   running   o'er, 
To    children   faithful    in   parental    love. 
In   the   far   future   lies   a   treasured   store. 
Of  blessed   memories   and   prospering   deeds. 
By  Heaven   in   love   reserved   for   duteous   sons. 
Cleave   to   this   road   of  virtue;    'tis   a   way 
Of  pleasantness,    and   all   its   paths   are   peace. 

To   youth   would   love   and   wisdom   kindly   say, — 
Amid   the   many   things   which   blend   to   form 
Thine    earthly   heritage,  —  lands,    houses,    wealth, — 
Ne'er   cease   to   hoard   as   legacy   most   prized, 
Th'    example,    counsels,    name,   and   pious   prayers, 
Bequeathed   by   the   good   parent   to   his   sons. 
An   ornament   of  grace   around   thy   head 
Is    such    a   prayer;     not   like    the    fabled    crown 
On   the   devoted   brow  of  Jason's   spouse, 


OCTORARA.  63 

Set   by   Medea   vengeful,   whence   the   rays 

Of  fiery   death   streamed   circling   through   her   frame, 

Mantling  it   with   a   curse;    but   this   a   crown 

Of  heavenly   gold,   in   which   a  magnet   power 

Lodged   by  the   Holy   Ghost,    perennial   dwells, 

And   mildly  radiates,    "life   to   thy   soul;" 

And    thou,    through    earth,    walk   in   the    mantling   light 

Shed   from    this    crown    of  fond   paternal    love. 

Wouldst   thou   true    nobleness    of  soul    attain. 

The    many   generous   passions    of  thy   heart 

Enliven    with   the    living   fire    which    burns 

On    pure   religion's   altar,    brought   from    heaven. 

Here,   as   the   hill   of  science   thou   dost   climb. 

The   temple   of  all   glorious   truth   to   reach, 

Kneel   at  Religion's   altar,   take   her   hand 

In   kindness  oflFered :    she   will   be   thy   guide 

Through   error's   mazes,   till   thou   reach   the   shrine 

Where   dwells   in   glory   God,   himself  the   truth. 

The   God   of  Israel   bless   thee   and   the   hand 

Of  Israel's   Shepherd   be   thy   guide,    loved  youth, 


64  OCTOEARA. 

Througli   all   the   dangers   of  this   wilderness, 
Where   thou   thy   pilgrim  -  staff  full   early   take, 
With   face   turned   toward   heaven.      When   my   soul 
May   far  be   severed   from   thee,    I   will   bear 
Thee   on   my  heart   in   prayer,    and   faith,    and   love, 
As   my   own   child   in   Jesus;    and   from   heaven, 
If  there   preceding  thee,    look   down   and   hail 
Thee   welcome   to   that   world   and   crown   of  life. 
Here   would   I   set   the    Saviour's   name    a   stilr, 
"  The   morning   star, "    which   never   sets,    to   guide 
Thee   in   thy   pilgrimage:    in   coming  years, 
When   here   thou   readst   his   name,    let   memory   dwell 
On   me   as   one   who   loves   his   precious   name. 
And   loves   thee   as   redeemed   with   Jesus'    blood. 
From   him   may   blessings    ever   round   thy   path 
Fall   like   the   summer   dews;    and   with   thine   eye 
On   him    thy   guiding   stai",    thy   pilgrim   path. 
Through   the   night   shadows   of  this   dreary   life, 
To   heaven   urge   onward.      When   with   sorrow   sunk 
Or   toil,   a   traveller   by   life's   dusty   road, 


OCTORARA.  65 

May   He,   the   good   Samaritan   of  heaven, 

Then    raise   thy   drooping   head    and    cheer   thy   heart. 

As   thou   in   sorrow   hast   to   others   done. 

And   when   thy   tent  is   struck,    and   the   last   march 

Of  life   awaits   thee   through   death's   fearful   vale, 

Where    stands   the   king   of  terrors   with   his   host, 

"While    the    day's   breaking   o'er   the    distant   hills; 

Then,    with   his   angels   may   He   meet   thy   soul; 

And,    with   his   favour   compassed   as   a   shield, 

Mayst   thou,    a   conqueror   through   Jesus'    blood. 

With    such    triumphal    escort,    through    the    gates 

Enter   the   new  Jerusalem,   and   meet. 

No   more   to   part,    the   loved   and   lost   of  earth, 

With   Jesus   in   his   glory   there   to   rest, 

In   endless   life,    a   king   and   priest   to   God. 

This   torch   of  truth,    not   by   an   angel's   hand, 
But  by   the   Son   of  God   brought   down   from   heaven, 
The   sacred    Scriptures   in    their   fulness    take, 
A   lamp   to   guide    thy   feet,    light   to   thy   way, 
9 


66  OCTORARA. 

Safe   through   the   mazy   darkness   of  this   life, 

And   through   the   deadly   fire-damp   of  the   grave. 

Here,   truth   and   beauty  in   perfection   glow; 

Nor   round   can   gather   error's   slightest   shade. 

A   treas'ry  of   exhaustless   truth,    it   feeds 

With   vigour   of  eternal    life   the   mind; 

The   heart   with   love   undying;    while   it   sways 

Th'    imagination   with   those   visions   pure, 

Which   clarify   the   soul   in   every   taste. 

And   form   us   to   the   poetry   of  heaven: 

Of  moral   truth   the   standard;    and   no   less 

In   poetry   and   taste   a  faultless   rule. 

Within   the   compass   of  this   sea   of  truth 

Revealed,  —  are   depths   which   the   profoundest  mind 

Can   never   fathom,    pearls   and   shells   and   gems 

More   brilliant,   beautiful,   and   numberless. 

Than   through   all   ages   can   the   votaries 

Of  wisdom  hope   to   gather.      Who   can    tell 

The   crowns   rich,   brilliant,    undecayed,    that   blaze 

On   brows   of  sons   of  genius,    with   the    gems 


OCTORARA.  67 

Gathered   from   these   store -houses   of  the   deep? 

Yet  undiminished   are   their   treasures   still, 

As   ocean   by  the   shells   and   gems   withdrawn 

By   divers   of  all   ages,    or  by   ships 

Spice -laden   from   the   far   and   palmy   isles 

Of  greenei-y   and    fragrance,    in    the    seas 

Of  India's    sunny   waters.      All   the    minds 

Inquisitive,    through    every   future   age, 

May   here   explore,    and   with   their  sounding  lines, 

Search   for   fresh    wonders,    and    fresh   wonders    find, 

And   in   their   spoils   exult,    while   there   remain 

In   these   deep   caves   of  Scripture,   hoards   of  truth 

And  riches   intellectual,   which   all   times 

And   hosts   of  seekers   ne'er   can   render  less. 

What   multitudes   have   in  these   waters   sought, 

In   ages   past,   the   diamonds   to   adorn 

Their   spirits,   and   be   worthy   deemed   to   sit 

With   Jesus   at   the   supper   of  the   Lamb : 

Yet   fresh   and   full   these   treasures,    as   when   came 

First  of  the   ransomed,   Abel :    we   enrich 


68  OCTORARA. 

Our   spirits    from    the    fulness   then    divulged. 

And   when   the   last    of  that   long    column    bought 

With   Jesus'   blood,   have   their   white   robes   received, 

And   palms,    and   crowns,    and   passed   beyond   the   gates 

Of  death,    in    primal    fulness    still    shall   roll 

The    depths   of  this   blest   ocean,   in   whose   waves, 

With   their   exhaustless   riches,    ever   dwells 

A   pow'r   more    healing    than    Bethesda's   pool. 

Such   truths   substantial,    which   to   humble   toil 

Of  mental    industry,    a   sure    reward 

Thus   yield   aboundingly,  —  like    Gerar's   meads 

Which   yielded   Isaac's   toil,    the   selfsame   year. 

An    hundred -fold    increase,  —  why   should    we    leave 

For   fancies   called   by   name   of  truth,   the   dream 

Of  intellects   awake   while  judgment   sleeps; 

Fine   theories   spun   from   the   mind   and   thrown 

To   float   abroad   and   mystify   the   sense, — 

An   intellectual    gossamer,    as   fine 

And    flimsy   as    the   threads    on    autumn -morn 

Across   our   way,   amazing,   as   we   gaze. 


OCTORARA.  69 

By   thought   of  skill   which   hung   them   useless   there. 

A   priceless    diamond,    this    blest   volume   burns 

Throughout,    in    deepest   gloom,    with    living   light. 

No    humble    shell    found    casual    ou    this    shore, 

But   buried   in    its    folds    a   priceless    pearl; 

And    richer   gold    lies    hid    in    every   sand, 

Than    all    the   waters   of  Pactolus   rolled. 

Where    ocean    depths    sparkle    with    diamond    caves, 

And   bowers   with    sea- flowers    hung,    with    sea -stars   paved, 

And    shells   in    whose    wreathed    chambers   loves   to    rest 

The    silvery   moonbeam   wandering   through    the    deep ;  — 

Or   when    the   morning   sun   flames    through    those   halls 

With    pillars    gold   and    blended    pearls    and   gems; 

No   wandering   nymph    e'er   gazed    with   joy   so    deep, 

As   felt,    when    by    God's    Spirit   led,    the   soul 

Lingers    among   these    galleries    of  truth. 

With    every   pillar,    statue,    fresco,    gem. 

Kindled   to   glory   by    the  Shechinah. 

The   beauties    of  the    structure   reared    for   man 

In  revelation,   by  the   hand   which   placed 


70  OCTORARA. 

The   temple    on    Mount   Zion,    can   be   known 

Only   by    him    who's    led    within    the    vail 

By   God   the    Spirit :    when   the   vail   which   hangs 

Before   the   carnal   mind,   has   been   withdrawn 

By   this   divine   hierophant,   we   gaze 

Not   on   the   terrors   flashing   through   the   gloom 

In   those   dark   mysteries   at   Eleusis   seen, 

But   on    the    day-spring   of  the   light   which    sleeps 

Upon   the    heavenly   hills.       As    o'er   the    brow 

Of  Olivet   the    weary   pilgrim    came 

All   sudden   on   the   temple   full   in   view, 

He   found   him    paused   and   gazing;    through   his   heart 

Deeper  and   more   o'erflowing   were   the   streams 

Of  holy   admiration,   when   he   paused 

Beyond   the   holy   place,    and   lowly   kneeled 

Prostrate   before   the   cherubim :    The   view 

Of  Scripture   in   its   compass,    to   the   mind 

Which   views    it    only   as    a   work    of  mind. 

Nor  looks   beyond   the   walls   reared   with   all   grace 

Of  literary   skill,  —  in   glory   sinks 


OCTORARA.  71 

Farther  below   the   burning  visions   hung, 

On    every    side,    around    the    soul   which    made 

A   priest   to   Jesus   through   atoning   blood, 

Reads   clear  the   characters   of  truth   enrolled 

On   page   of  Scripture   by  the   Spirit's   blaze, — 

The   letters   written   on   the   new   white   stone, — 

The   emblems   by   the    Holy   Spirit   wrought 

Upon   the   tapestry   whose    silvery    folds 

Hang   round   the    golden    shrine,    the   mercy -seat, 

Where,    hid    in    time    of  trouble,    rests   the    soul 

Beneath   Jehovah's   voice   and   sheltering   wings. 

Formed   for   God's    glory   by   pursuit   of  truth, 

Keeping   his   ways,    and   with   enlightened   love, 

Enjoying   what   is   beauteous   in   his   works, — 

Man   was   cut   off  by   sin   from   all   these   springs 

Of  joy   exhaustless,    sentenced   to   the   gloom 

Of  ignorance   and   error,   in   the   cell 

Of  this    dark    earth   our   prison,    with    no   rays 

Of  light   and   beauty,    save    the   casual   gleams 

Caught   through   these   dungeon -bars,   while   the   bright   world 


72  OCTORARA. 

Of  heaven   and   angels,    deep   enshrouded   lies 

By   walls   we   may   not   pass.      Yet   in   the   soul, 

Remain    those    native    pow'rs,    the    thirst   for   truth 

Springing   from   reason,    and    the    thirst   no   less 

For   what   is   beautiful,   whose   source   lies   deep 

In   the   imagination :    reason   feeds  , 

On   truth;     and   the   imagination    feeds 

On   what   is   beautiful   in   truth,    expressed 

However  various   in   the   works   of  God. 

Had   man    not   sinned,    these    powers    had    ever   stood 

On    high   beside    God's    throne,    where    all    the    rays 

Of  glory   through    creation    central    burn, 

And    all    is   light   of  beauty    and    of  truth. 

Thus    cast   from    his    position,    with    a   mind 

Enfeebled,   clouded,   but   of  pow'rs   unchanged, — 

In   lack   of  aliment  of  which   the   soul 

Has   been   by   sin   defrauded,    far   we   grope 

In   search   of  what  is   beautiful   and   true. 

To   satisfy   the   cravings   of  these   powers,  — 

A   craving  so   intense   as   to   receive 


0  C  T  O  R  A  K  A  .  73 

Man's    dreams    witli    gladness,    when   the    massive   truth 
Of  God's    substantial    wisdom    is   withheld. 
What   are    the    poet's   song,    the    pictured   page 
By   genius   laboured,    but   the    efforts    made 
To    satisfy   our   faculties    with    truth 
In   beauty   garnished  ?      When    in    darkness    left, 
For   ages    round    his    prison  -  walls    to    grope, 
Man   lingered    restless   and    unsatisfied 
With    ore    brought   by   philosophy   from    mines 
Wrought    deep    with   steady   toil,    and    splendours    seized 
By   genius    in    his    tow'ring   flights    tow'rds   heaVen; 
God   came   in    person    through    the    human    form 
In    Bethlehem   born,    and   in   the   Scriptures   gave 
All    we   may   know   of  glories    which    abound 
In   yonder   sinless   world,    and   which    the    mind 
Failing   to    reach   unaided,    formed    the    dreams 
Of  poetry,  —  formed   systems,    in    default 
Of  something   better,    called    philosophy. 
Hence,    in    the    Scriptures    does    the    heart    exult 
To   find   in   heavenly   richness,   substance   pure, 
10 


74  OCTORARA. 

All   dreamed   by   sage   and   poet   in   the   age 

Of  G-reece   and   Rome.      Here   are   the   golden   fruits 

Of  the   Hesperides,    the   tree   of  life 

Laden   with   fruits   perennial,    living   truths. 

Here   is   divulged   the   island   of  the   blest, 

More   glorious   than   Atlantis'    fabled   bowers; 

The   golden   thread   which   the   bewildered   soul 

Leads  from   the   mazy  labyrinth   of  sin, 

And   rescues   from   the   Monitaur   of  death. 

Here,    for   the    shadowy   wood  -  nymphs,    we    are    met 

By   dazzling   hosts   at   Mahanaim   seen, 

The   ministry   of  angels.      Here,    the   dream 

Of  an   Apollo   exiled   from   the   skies 

On   earth   in   human   form,   we   leave   to   gaze 

On   God,    the   Son,    dwelling   in    Him   who   wept 

On    Olivet   for   sin,    on    Calvary    died. 

Here,    we    may   come    to   more    than    Delphi's   shades, 

And    e'en   the    humblest   soul,    a   priest   to    God, 

Receive   a   holy   inspiration   breathed 

By   God   the   Holy   Spirit;    here,    the   soul 


OCTORARA.  ,  76 

Bathe   in   a   purer   than   Castalian   spring, 
The   fount   of  living   waters;    here   a   harp, 
Transcending   that   of  Orpheus,   sweetly   charms 
Hearts   petrified   by   sin,    and   while   they   hear, 
Draws   them   entranced  by   mild   constraint   to   heaven. 

No   relic   more   aft'ecting   than   the   worn 
And   well    used   Bible    of  a    friend    in    heaven. 
Of  earthly   things   this    nearest   lay   the    heart. 
Through   all   the   fortunes   of  a   checkered   life. 
In   joy   and    grief,    in    sunshine    and   in    gloom, 
When   friends   were   numerous,   and   when   friends   decayed. 
When   the   lone   heart  lay   crushed,   a   bleeding   wreck, 
In   silent   anguish,    by   life's   desert   road; 
When    sins    distressed,    when   heavenly   visions   smiled; 
In    spiritual   gloom,    and   when   our  Lord 
Walked   in   close   converse   with   our   burning   hearts; 
This    precious   volume    was   the    only  joy; 
These   truths    the    gloomy   spirit's   only   light. 
The   crushed   and   wounded   spirit's   only   balm. 


76  OCTORARA. 

Here,    with   the   wintry   dawn    of  early   clay, 
Our   straining   vision    searched    for   living   truth  • 
And   here,    in    summer -twilight's   gathering   shades, 
This   page   of  love   our   aching   eyes   perused. 
And   when    mid   foiling    chill  -  dews   of  the    grave. 
The   hand    grew   cold    and    nerveless,    and    forgot 
Each    earthly   touch,    it   wandered    still    to    find 
This    page    of  words   of  Jesus;    and    the    heart, 
When    other   loves    grew    cold,    its    tendrils    warm. 
In    darkening    death,    strong    round    this   volume    drew, 
Loved    next    to    Jesus,    the    pure    anmlet 
Filled    with    the    living    perfume    of   his    love. 
There,    cold    and    still    the    hand   yet   faithful    lay, 
True    to    its    latest   love,    on    the    old    book 
Left    now    when    faith    is    turned    to    sight   in    heaven. 
These    pencilled    passages,    these    places    worn, 
These    pages    blotted    with    the    frequent   tear 
Burst    from    contrition's    eye    of  longing   love. 
Speak    of  a    weai-y   pilgrim's    heavenward    love, 
Speak    of  a    weary    pilgrim    soul    at    rest. 


OSeiSIOIiL   FIE©S§ 


RETIREMENT    WITH    JESUS. 

There  will  I  give  thee  mt  loves. — Song  vii.  12. 

Come   to   this   tranquil   shade 
Of  forest   boughs    in    spring's    rich    freshness  wove ; 
And   on    this    turf  with    early   flowers   inlaid, 

Bring   filled   with   fervent   love, 

The   censer   of  the   heart; 
And    oifer   sacrifice   of  praise    and    prayer. 
To '  Him   whose   Holy   Spirit   doth    impart 

Peace    calm    as    this    pure  '  air. 

Here   are   no   rolling   wheels, 
No    mammon's    pomp,    nor   envy,    strife,    nor  jar; 
Unfelt   the    din    of  life    around    us    steals, 

Like   the    dull    waves   afar. 


80  OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

From    Salem's    crowds    at   even, 
To    the    loue    mount   was    Jesus    e'er   withdrawn ; 
There,    with    no   voice    to   hear,    he   poured    to    Heaven 

His    prayer   at   early   dawn. 

There    does    he    linger   yet, 
Revealed    to   faith's    pure    e^e,    to    meet    and    bless 
Souls    who,    for   his    blest    smiles    and    voice,    forget 

Earth's    phantom    happiness. 

When    rosy    morning    fills, 
In    heaven's    dewy   bowers,    her    golden    urn, 
And    bright    her   altars    on    the    eastern    hills. 

With    balmy    incense    burn ; 

When   pensive   eve   doth    gaze. 
With    wondering   silence,    on    the    starry    throng. 
That   crowd    the    darkening   courts   of  heaven,    and    raise 

Their   full    adoring   song; 

Then    haste,    my   soul,    to    meet 
This    confidential    Friend,    where    none    intrudes; 
Feel    Mary's   joy,    while    falling   at   his    feet 

In    these   blest   solitudes. 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  81 

Here,    speaks   He   face   to   face, 
With   our   o'erwlielmed   and    gladdened    souls;    our   heart 
He    gathers   to    his    bosom ;    and   his    grace 

In    melting   streams   imparts. 

The    hidden    manna   here, 
Our   spirits   find   by    more    than    angels   given; 
And   brighter   than    on    Tabor's    mount,    appear 

O'erpowering   gleams    of  heaven.  ^ 

In    this    divine    retreat, 
Where   breathes    the    fainting   soul    reviving    air, 
The    spirit   healthful   grows,    and    feels    it    sweet 

Its   toils   and   woes   to   bear. 

And   when   my  soul   alone 
Must   pass   away   from    earth,    through    death's    dark   shade, 
He   whom   my   heart   has   here    so    frequent   known. 

Will   meet   me   with   his   aid ; 

And    gathered    in    his    arms, 
A   trembling   lamb,    my    trusting    soul    he'll    bear 
Safe    through    death's   terrors    and    the    grave's   alarms, 

His   home   in   heaven    to   share. 


11 


THE    NAME     OF    JESUS, 


The  name  which  is  above  evert  name. — PMl.  ii.  9. 

Jesus   my   Saviour,    I   have   loved   tliy   namej 

A    charm    invests    it,    which   my   listening   soul 

In   breathless   silence   holds;    a   sea -gemmed   shell 

Brought   from   the   depths   of  heav'n,   whose   murmurings 

Whisper   the   fulness   of  the   love   which   rolls 

An   ocean   boundless   in   the   far   off  skies : 

A   precious    alabaster   filled   with   balm 

Drawn    from   the    tree   of  life ;    the   heart   made   pure, 

A    spiritual    casket,    hoards    thy   name 

As   a   bright  jewel   fallen   to    earth   from   heav'n. 

In    cloudless   hours,    when   far   o'er   sunny   seas 

My   soul   would   wander   like   a  joyous   bird. 

And   skim    o'er   sparkling   waves,    through   beauteous    bow'rs, 

Jn    worlds    of  poesy,    and    list   the    airs 

Of  fragrance   and   of  song;    or  seek   the   fruits 


OCCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

Of  golden   wisdom,   on   the   earthly   tree 
Of  knowledge;    and   would   seek   a   clime   where   loves 
And   friends   of  earth,    dove-like,   are   gathered   far 
From   winter's   blighting   frost,    in   boundless    spring; 
Ah!    then    my    spirit    droops,    the    buoyant    strength 
Fades    from    its   wing,    the   brightening   eye    grows    dim 
And    listless,    e'en   through   fairest   scenes    it   roams: 
Sickened    and    sad,    from   all   that   earth    can    give, 
Of  splendour,    honour,    learning,    beauty,    love, 
My   spirit   longs    for   Jesus;    and    with    wing 
Quickened    and    strong   from    love    intense,    its    course 
Speeds    to   the    clefts    and   rocks,    the    mount   of   myrrh 
And    frankincense,    where    he    awaits    his    dove, 
Gathers   us   loving,    trembling   to   his    heart. 
And    speaks    the    wondrous   riches    of  his    name. 
In    sorrow's   flood,    this    name   the    ark    where   rests 
The   dove   of  the    disti'essed   and   wearied    soul; 
The   golden   pot   with    hidden    manna   filled; 
The    cup   of  our   salvation,    whence    is    poured 
The   oil   of  gladness   on   the   broken   heart. 
By   Him   the   good    Samaritan   of  heaven : 
In    sickness,    this    our    health;    in    weakness,    strength; 
Our   light,    in    darkness;    and   in    death    our   life. 
Where,    in    the   holiest    of  the    soul,    doth    dwell 
Thy    Spirit's    cloud   of  fire,    bright   be    thy   name. 


84  OCCASIONAL    PIECES.^ 

Engraven    on    the    altar.     In    the    depths 

Of  being's    fountain,    lies    thy    name    a   gem 

Than   life   more   precious; — Jesus,    thou   my   life: 

And    as    thy   name    lies    garnered   in    the    streams 

Of  feeling   springing   in   the   heart,    as   pearl 

Of  price   unspeakable    in   limpid   rill ; 

My   soul,    with   bright'ning   love,*  shall    rest   a   gem 

In   life's   pellucid   river   from   the   throne 

Of  Grod   the   Lamb,   the   Spirit's   crystal   streams. 


LONGING    FOR    JESUS. 

Whom  have  I  in  heaven  bdi  Thee. — rsalm  Ixxiii.  25. 

Jesus   my   precious   friend, 

With    thee    alone    I'm   blest, 
In    thee    all    my    affections    blend, 

On   thee   my   spirit   rest. 

Withdraw   my   heart   from    earth, 

Fix  my   desires   on   heav'n; 
Each   hour  may   holier  thoughts   have   birth, 

New  views   of  Christ   be   given. 

My   soul   is   sick   of  love. 

My   spirit   pants    for    thee; 
On   angel -wings   would   soar   above, 

From   all   things   earthly   free. 

Before   thy   heavenly   throne, 

My   longing    soul    would    fall, 
And   know   Thee    as   myself  am    known; 

Feel   Jesus   all   in    all. 


THE    MORNING    STAR. 


AnB  I  -WILL  GIVE  HIM  THE  MORNING  STAR. — Rev.  ii.  28. 


Lone   pilgrim,   raise   thy  weary   eyes 

To   yonder   eastern   hills,. 
Where   deepest   night's   dark   shadow   lies, 

And    fail    its    coldest    chills : 
What  hlaze   above   that   mountain   brow, 
This   gloomy   vale   so   richly   now. 

With   streaming  radiance   fills  ? 
Bright  burst   its   beacon -beams   afar, 
Day's   harbinger,   the   morning   star. 

0   couldst   thou,   with   unfettered   wing, 
Rise   from   these   gloomy   shades, 

To    that   unfallen    world,    whose    spring 
No   wintry   chill   invades; 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  87 


Where   grief  nor   grave   has   cast   a   gloom, 
Where   flow'rs   in   Eden's   freshness   bloom, 

Nor   hue    the    softest   fades : 
Far   from    these    stormy   scenes,    how   blest 
Within   those   realms   of  light   to   rest. 

But   should    of  worlds    that   brightest   gem 

Be    given    as    thine    own. 
Its   pearls    and    gold,    its    diadem, 

Its    indisputed    throne : 
Its    distant   climes   their   tribute   bring; 
Its    willing   nations    hail    thee    king. 

All   glorious,    loved,    alone : 
From   death   released,    from    envy's    frown, 
To   wear   for   e'er   so    rich    a   crown; 

0    wouldst   thou   earth's    neglect    and   scorn. 

With   more    than    gladness    bear; 
And   cheer   thy   heart,    with    sorrow   worn. 

By   hope    of  glory   there. 
How   slight   the    griefs    of  brighted    earth, 
Its    thrones    and    crowns    how    little    worth, 

When    of  such    bliss   the    heir : 
How   would    thy   gladdened    spirit   long 
To   mingle   with    that   starry   throng. 


88  OCCASIONxlL    PIECES. 

But    what    that   pure,    unfallen    world, 

Its    throue,    its    crown,    its   bliss ; 
What   all    those    stars    in   heav'n    impearled, 

More  bright,  more  blest  than  this : 
Can  all,  with  Him,  in  worth,  compare, 
Who   placed   those   worlds   of  glory   there, 

Whose    thrones,    whose    pow'r   is    His  ? 
Around    whose    one    eternal    throue, 
All,    Him   their   Maker,    Sovereign   own  ? 

Kouse,    care-worn    saint;    though,   poor,    distressed, 

To   thee    thy    God   has    giv'n 
More    than    all    worlds    thou    deeflist   so    blest 

In    yonder   star -gemmed    heav'n: 
His    Son    who    formed   those    worlds.    He    gave, 
Thy   wrecked   and   sinking   soul   to   save. 

On   sin's   dark   surges   driv'n : 
Jesus,    whose   yonder   glories    are, 
Is   giv'n   us   in    ''the    Mornin'>;   Star." 


LINES    WRITTEN    IN    A    NEW     HOME, 

We  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him. — John  xiv.  23. 

Come   thou,    the    dear -loved   treasure   of  my   heart; 
In   whom   are   garnered   all   my   fervent   loves; 
My   precious   Saviour,    to   this   dwelling   come, 
And    with    my   loying,    longing   soul   abide. 
Thou   art   the   great   attraction   of  my   home; 
'Tis   desolate   without   thee;    but   thy   smile, 
Thy   voice,    thy   presence   can   a   temple   make 
E'en   of  the   rocky   wilderness   where   slept 
The    exile   patriarch ;    how   happy,    then, 
This   peaceful,    well-appointed    home,    thy   gift 
To    thine    unworthy   servant.      In    this    room. 
My   study,    while   arranging,    I   have   thought 
With   holy   trepidation,  —  Here   will   come. 
And   meet,    and   dwell   with   me,    my   dearest   love, 
Jesus;    to   whom   my   soul's   betrothed;    who   waits, 
In   his   own   home   prepared   for  me   in   heaven, 
12 


go     ^  OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

The   day   of  our   espousals;    and   meanwhile, 
Till   the    daybreak   and   shadows   flee    away, 
Comes   o'er   the   dark   ravines   and   bleetling   cliffs 
Towering   between   these    prison  -  grounds   of  earth 
And   the   wide,   sunny   palace  -  grounds   of  heaven ; 
And   gives   me   sweet   expressions   of  his   love 
The   world   can   never  know.      Oh,    other   spots 
On   earth   are   rendered   sacred,    other   homes, 
By   memories   of  meetings   there   with   Thee, 
And   lengthened   visitations;  —  here   abide. 
With   the   same   glory,    tenderness,    and   love. 
More   than   a   welcome.    Saviour,   will   I   give : 
All   throw  I   open   to   Thee,    house,    arms,    heart; 
All   that   I   have   is   treasured   up   for   Thee. 
Where   ere   Thou   art,   blest   Jesus,    is   my   home; 
Nor  earth,   nor  heaven   has   home   apart   from   Thee. 


ASPIRATIONS. 


Mt  soul  thirstetii  foe  God,  for  the  living  God:   when  shall  I  come  and  appear 
BEFORE  Gob. — Psalm  xUi.  2. 


The   pure   in   heart   may   feel,    no   tongue   can   tell, 
What  joy   unspeakable   pervades   the   breast, 
When   our   affections   on   the    Saviour   dwell. 
And   his   pure   Spirit  has   the   soul   possessed: 
Then,    gathered   in   our   opening   graces,    rest 
Truths   purer   than    the    dew   of  Hermon's   hill, 
In   flowers    that    Gilboa's   springs   invest; 
The   deep'ning  peace   of  heav'n   the   soul   doth   fill, 
And   from   the   tree   of  life   a  healing  balm   distil. 

Mild   as   the   opening   rose   of  Sharon's   vale, 
Our  love   for  heav'n   and   Jesus   silent   grows; 
Gloom   flees,    as    clouds,    when    o'er   the    sinking   gale 
The   summer   sun   his   evenino-  radiance   throws: 


92  OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

Then,    from   the   broken   spirit,    gently   flows 
Contrition's    crystal    fountain,  —  sighs    and   tears 
The    Spirit's   sacred   presence   that   disclose; 
While   we,   like   him   of  Patmos,    save   his   fears. 
Fall   at   his   feet   who   in   such   loveliness   appears. 

0   then    the    spirit   longs   to   spread    the    wings 
Of  an   unbodied   angel,    and    to   soar 
To   yon   bright   realms   of  bliss,   where   earthly   things 
Can    weary   and   oppress   the   heart    no    more ; 
To   be   what   we   have   groaned   to   be;    to   pouv 
The   spirit   forth   in   perfect   love;    to   see 
And   tell    Him    how   we    love    Him ;    to    adore 
As   they   adore    in   heaven ;    to   know   me    free 
To   love,   adore,   and   praise   through   blest   eternity. 

Thou,    whom   my   spirit   loves,    0    tell   me   where 
Thou    dost    thy    chosen,    in    this    wilderness. 
Feed   with   these   heavenly   visions :    Let   me   share 
Such   scenes   as   did   the   exiled   patriarch   bless :  * 
We   may   not   see,   yet   may   we   feel   no   less, 
By   thy   blest   Spirit,    Thee   in   glory   near: 


*  Gen.  xxviii.    12. — xxxii.    2.— xxxii.    30. 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  93 

0  flood   my   soul   with   love,    till   it   oppress 
With   fulness   my   affections;    and   appear 

In   glory  bright   as   these    frail   earthly   powers   can   bear. 

1  know   thou   wilt  my   large   desires   fulfil, 

And   bless   my   soul   with   grace   as   grace   I   need; 
Nor   leave   me,    till   on   Zion's   holy   hill, 
With   the   Lamb   slain   and   his   redeemed,    I   feed 
By   the   still   waters.      Lord,    my   spirit   lead 
In   ways   thy   love   and   wisdom   knoweth  best; 
For   thee   'tis   sweet   to   labour;    sweet   to   read 
Thy   goodness   in   our  woes;    yet,    make   me   blest 
With    fulness    of  thy   love,    till   I   in    heav'n    shall    rest. 


WHERE    I    ABIDE    THERE    THOU    SHALT    BE. 

Where  I  am,  theee  shall  also  my  servant  be. — John  xii.  26. 

"Where   I   abide,    there   thou   shalt  be, 

And    mid    my    glory    ever   dwell; 
Its   mysteries   e'er   unfolding   see, 

And   all   its   wondrous   riches   tell. 

Where   I   abide,   there   thou   shalt   be,  I 

...  ) 

Removed   from   sin's   last  blighting   shade;  ■ 

Thy   breast   from    conflicts    ever   free, 

In   peace   its   surging   passions   laid. 

"Where   I   abide,   there   thou   shalt   be, 

And   all   that   chills   thy  love   removed; 
My   deepest   love   I'll   show   to   thee, 

And   me   thou   love   as   thou   art  loved. 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  95 

Where   I   abide,   there   thou   shalt  be, 

3Iy   coming   and   my   throne   to   share ; 
My   kingdom's    glorious    triumphs    see. 

Its   crown   of  love   and   glory   wear. 

Where   I   abide,    there    thou   shalt   be, 

And    meet    each    cherisbed    earthly    frieud  ^ 

Their  loves   more   deeply   blest   to   thee, 
As   all   in   me   more   deeply   blend. 

Where   I   abide,    there   thou   shalt   be. 

And   on   my   bosom   ever   rest; 
My   spirit   e'er  rejoice   o'er   thee, 

And   thou   in   me   for   ever   blest. 


JESUS    OUK    REST. 

Tms  IS  MT  REST  FOR  EVER. — Psalm  cxxxii.  14. 

When   shall   my   soul   repose, 
All   pure   and   glorious   on   my   Saviour's   breast; 
As   'neath   morn's   opening   eye,    tlie   full-blown   rose 

Gives   the   lone   dew-drop   rest. 

Ne'er   can   I   rest,    nor   feel 
My   soul   at   home,   till   Him   in   heav'n   I   find; 
And   heavenly   glory  in   my   heart   anneal 

The   graces   there   inshrined. 

Sick   with   this   fervent   love, 
How   turns   the   spirit   from   all   earthly  things; 
And   longs   to   sink   away   a   pearl   above, 

In   heaven's   pellucid   springs, 

Lost   as   a   radiant   gem, 
In   Jesus'    heart,   the   depths   of  love   divine; 
My   soul   impearled   in   bliss,   his    diadem 

Its   sainted,   glorious  shrine. 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  97 

O   when  in   lonely  gloom 
Of  sleepless   midnight,    darkest   clouds   of  care 
His   smiles   make   glorious;    how   shall   they   illume 

Heaven's   sinless,    cloudless   air. 

Rich   are   the   melting  tears, 
Which   full   the   heav'nward   eye   of  faith   suflFuse, 
As   Jesus'   tones  the   listening   spirit   hears, 

And  hrightening  glory  views. 

0   take   me   to   his   feet ;  — 
There   let   me   bathe   with   tears   and   kiss   the   wound 
Borne   on   the   cross;    and   glad  my  love   repeat 

To   angels    listening   round. 

How   can   the   richest   tone, 
That   e'er   from   angel  -  lips   or  harp   distilled, 
Entrance   my   heart   that   Jesus'    love    has   known. 

And   with   his   voice   been   thrilled. 

No,    not   the   streets   of  gold, 
Nor   gates    of  pearl,    nor   Salem's    silvery    dome. 
Nor  scenes   on   Zion's   heavenly   fields   unrolled;  — 

These,   these   are   not   my   home. 
13 


98  ,         OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

My   disembodied   soul, 
Ye   kindred   angels,   take   to   Jesus'    breast; 
There,    dove-like,    seeks   my   heart  its   final   goal; 

There,    only,    longs  to   rest. 


A    LOVED    ONE    IN    HEAVEN. 


There  Ton  shall  enjoy  tour  friends  again   that  are  gone  thither  before  you. 

Pilgrim's  Progress 

When   shall   I   be   witli   Jesus?      Wlien   my   love 

To   this   best   friend,  —  a   flower   'mid   earth's   drear  gloom, 

Unfolding   'neath   the   Spirit's   dews   its   leaves 

As   softly   dawn   awakens,  —  be   revealed 

In   full-blown   richness,    and   my  heart   o'erfilled 

With   glory   from   the   risen   sun   of  heaven, 

Lost   in   a   sea   of  light   and   love,    exhale, 

As   a   pure   censer,    incense   of  the   skies  ? 

This   love    he    fondly   fosters ;    as    a   plant 

In   his   own    garden,    he   has    set    my   heart : 

And   though   this   growth   of  earthly  joys   that   creep 

Like   weeds   around   me;    and   the   purer   flowers 

Of  ease   and   friendship;    and   the   tendril   frail, 

But  beautiful   and   lovely,   that   did   creep 

Around   me   and   into   my   very   heart. 

Part   of  my  being;  —  all   are   torn   away; 

'Tis   thus,    because   he   loves   me,    and   would   urge 

My  love   to  stronger,   healthier   growth,    and   raise 


100  OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  ; 

A   flower  more   beautiful,   wlien   from   tliis   wild 

He   moves   me   to   the   paradise   of  God. 

Oh !    with    what   fond    and    longing   love,    I   turn 

To   yonder   hills   of  frankincense    and   light,  | 

Where    he    awaits   his    chosen :    and   my   heart 

Doth   melt   with   tenderness,   my  longing  soul 

Dissolve   in   tears   of  love,    contrition,   peace. 

Thanks   that   the   stream   of  life   so   rapid   shoots 

And  bears   me   to   his   bosom;    that   the   wells 

Opened   so   numerous   in    this    desert   world. 

Tasted,    are    bitterness;    the    soul    thus    driven. 

By   sweet   compulsion,   to   the   smitten   Rock. 

The   rills    of  earthly   friendship    which   have    rolled 

Around    our   way,    like    streams    from    Lebanon, 

So   pure,    refreshing,    have     been    made    to    fail; 

Lest   for  their  beautous   bowers,    our   souls   forsake 

The   fount   of  living   waters.      Long   there   cheered 

My  pilgrim   heart,    an   angel  sent   from   heaven  ) 

In   human   guise :  —  with   milder   tone,    and   eye 

Purer   than    of  this    world :    In   hours    of  gloom, 

Her  presence   was   a  hallowed   light;    the   mould 

Of  earth    was   so   transparent,    that   the    gleam 

Of  God's   blest    Spirit   burning    on    her   heart 

Shone    softly   luminous   on   all    around ; 

And   utterances,    such   as   heard   in   heaven, 


I 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  101 

Fell   on   my  ear,   scarce   broken :    When    my  heart 

Was   sunk   with    sorrow,    those    pure   tones    distilled 

As    music    from    the    skies;    the    fallen   head 

That   gentle    hand   has    raised;     and   to   her   breast, 

Gathered,    and    pillowed    'ueath    her    seraph    eye, 

In   hours    of  deep    contrition,    I've    forgot 

Surrounding   sorrow :    at   the    throne    of  grace, 

We've   kneeled   and   longed   for  heaven;    by   the   bed 

Of  sickness   has   she   ministered,    and   read 

The   truth   of  Jesus,    sweeter   in   the   voice 

Of  her   his    angel.       When    fresh   violets, 

With   step   unheard,    had   gathered   to   announce, 

In    their   soft   breatfe    of  sweets,    the    coming    Spring 

Crowned   with   the    peach -bloom    and   the    numerous    rose, 

Her   sense,   so   delicate,   was   first   to   hear 

And    lead   me,   glad,    to   meet   those    harbingers 

Of  thronging   pleasures,    that   with   flowers    crowned 

And   leafy   chaplets,    cheered    us    with    their   smiles, 

Till   the   late   autumn   shades :    those   violets 

Are   here   once   more   in   beauty,    and   their   breath 

Yet   sweetly   whispers    of  the    rosy   hours ; 

But   she   they   loved    to    flock    around,    is    gone. 

And   gloom   creeps   o'er   their   gladness.       Oft   when   Spring 

Was   fresh   and   fragrant,    have   we   paused   mid   flowers; 

And   talked   of  Paradise,   where   flowers   ne'er   fade. 


102  OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

And   wlien   the   summer   moon   looked   through   the   bloom 

Of  the   rich   locust,   wet  with   evening   dews, 

She   stood   beneath   this   honeysuckle's   shade 

And   loaded   perfume,    and   we   spoke   of  heaven; 

And   wondered   where,   amid   those   stars,    might   dwell 

Our   common   Saviour   with   his   saints   in   light, 

With   some   we   here   had   loved ;  —  where,   we   might   meet 

Beyond   the   tomb.      Now,    she,    alas,   has   gone : 

Gone,    never   to   return;    and   left   my   soul 

To   grope   its   way,    in   loneliness   and   tears : 

<jrone   to   her   native   skies,   there   to   await 

My   heavenward    spirit :    gone,    to   take    from    earth 

Its   last   attraction    for   my   broken    heart. 

And   place   that   strong  attraction   in   the   skies. 

Where   dwells   my  blessed   Saviour.      All   I   love 

Is   gathered   now   in  heaven,  —  my   precious   Lord, 

And   friends   loved   well   as   life.      Fond   would   I'  gaze 

On   that   bright   constellation,  —  lesser   stars 

Burning   around   the    morning   star;    and    glad 

To   bear,    and   feel   not,   these    dark   ills   of  earth. 

As   felt   the   blest   assurance,  —  soon   our   soul 

Shall   from   this   body  burst,    bright   with   the   rays 

Of  Christ   our   righteousness,    and   rise   to   shine 

A   star   amid   the   morning   stars   of  heaven. 

April  1849. 


THE    NEW    YEAK 
t 


The   silvery   Spring,   witli   clustering  roses   crown'd; 
Summer,    with   brows   in   wheaten   chaplets  bound; 
Benignant    Autumn,    'mid    his   fruitful    shades; 
And   Winter's   rustling  leaves   and   windy   glades, 
Again   are   passing; — and   we   gather   here, 
To  hail   a   welcome   for  the   coming  year. 

The   ocean -wanderer,   with   homeward   eye, 

Beholds   with   earnest  joy   the   evening  sky; 

Not   that   the   clouds   in   drapery  of  gold, 

O'er   purple   waves   the   setting   sun   infold; 

A   deeper  joy   his   wearied   spirit   feels, 

As   with   the   falling   shades   a   whisper   steals,  — 

His   wanderings   nearer   to   a   close   are   come. 

This   marks   his   course   as   one   day  nearer   home : 

The   parting  year,   upon   the   wintry  breast. 

Of  life's   dark   ocean,    calmly   sinks   to  rest ; 


104  OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

While    memory's    autumn  -  twilight    lingers    there, 
And   makes   the   scene  of  gloom   a   beauty   wear; 
Where   shipwrecked   hopes   and   faded  joys  a  grave 
Have   found   beneath  the   dark   tumultuous   wave. 
As   thus   we   gaze   upon   the   parting  year, 
With   mingled  joy   and   sorrow,   hope   and   fear; 
While   gladness   greets   the   loved   ones   of  the   heart, 
And  there   afresh   the   springs   of  pleasure   start; 
While   gathered   round   the   bright   domestic   hearth. 
We   feel   the   purest,   holiest  bliss   of  earth; 
Be   this  our   deepest  joy   on   New   Year's   even. 
To   feel   that   we   are   one   year   nearer   heaven;  — 
Nearer  the   friends   we   mourn,   at   rest   above ; 
To   Jesus    nearer,    whom   unseen    we    love; 
With    whom    alone    our   pilgrim    heart   can    rest; 
Our   only   home   upon   his   loving   breast. 
One   year   the   less   of  earthly   grief  remains; 
One   year  the   less   of  earthly   toil   and   pains; 
Of   deadly   strife   with   sin    and    Satan's    power; 
Of  dark   exposure   to   temptation's   hour ; 
One   year   the   nearer   sin's   eternal   close ; 
The   end   of  death,    that  last   of  human   woes; 
The   long   hoped   coming   of  our   lord   to   reign. 
And   shed   o'er   earth   her   Eden   bliss   again. 
What   though   our  years   fade,    in   their   gloomy  flight, 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  '  105 

Swift   as   a   shooting   meteor   of  the    night; 

0   tell   me    not   that   time    too   swift   can   move, 

In   bearing   me   to   heaven   and   Jesus'    love. 

"V^hile   the   hearth,   blazing,   throws 
O'er   twilight's   deepening   gloom   a   mellow   glare, 
Let   household   friends   in   narrowing  circle   close, 

And   leave   one   vacant   chair, 

For  her  the   loved   and   gone. 
Who   shed   a  blessing   as   we   lingered   here. 
In   the   glad   family   gathering   hither   drawn, 

To  hail   the   opening  year. 

There   let  the   vacant  toy, 
The   gift  -  book   on   the   table   quiet   lie, 
Which   last   New   Year   our   dear   departed   boy 

Scanned   with   such   cheerful   eye. 

0  !    not   to    think   of  those, 
The   loved,    departed,    on    such    night  as   this, 
Would   in   the   heart   the   deepest   fountains   close 

Of  tenderest   earthly   bliss. 

The   memories   of  the   blest. 
As   morning   dews   on   the   unfolding   flowers. 
Steal   o'er   our   drooping   loves   with   gloom   oppressed; 

As   the   Aurora's   hues, 

O'er    Autumn's    fading    bowers; 
14 


lOQ  OCCASIONAL    PIECES. 

As   angels   hovering   on    silvery   wings, 

O'er   the   soul's   temple   with   its   ruined   towers, 

And   love's   deep  -  welling   springs. 

0 !    sweet   the    gathering   tear. 
To   know  they   wait   to   welcome   us   away. 
Where   the   day   breaks   on    heaven's   new   ceaseless   year, 

The   shadows   flee    away. 

For  us   'tis   sweet    to   know. 
That   when   this   gathering   hails   another  year, 
If  we   are   gone,    each   heart   with   love   will   glow, 

Still    hold   our   memory   dear. 

While   quiet   rests   the   snowy   pall 

Of  Winter   over   dale   and   hill, 
Unbroke   save   by   the   red   bird's   call. 

And    murmur   of  the   snow  -  fringed    rill ; 
While    lone    the    moon    her   starry   way 

Keeps   through   the   silvered   clouds  of  heaven, 
And   cold   the   stars   with   brighter   ray, 

Gruard   the   hush'd   silence    of  the    even ; 
Within,    screened    from    the    chilling    night, 
Around    the    central    shaded    lisilit. 
Safe    from    the    world's    tumultuous   jar. 
Heard   like   the    surging   waves   afar; 
A   hush   the   social   talk   succeeds, 


i 


OCCASIONAL    PIECES.  107 


While    the   last   news   some   loved   one   reads ; 
Not   from   the   poisoned   sheets   that   come 
Death  -  ladeu   to   the   virtuous   home ; 
But   columns,   in   whose   healthful   tone 
Virtue's   rich   seeds   are   broadcast   sown : 
Or   read   some   book,   such   as   the   press, 

Controlled   by   piety,    now   showers, 
Like   flower  seeds   on   the   winds,   to  bless 

The   nations   with   its   healing  powers. 
Shall   parents   guard,   with  jealous   eye, 
The   son's,    the    daughter's   company; 
Exclude   the   coarse,  ill-mannered   clown, 
On    the    profane    and  heartless    frown, 
And   the   loved   household   shelter   less 
From   converse   with   a   poisonous   press? 
Leave   inexperienced   youth   to   choose. 
Where   ignorantly   they   may   lose 
So   much  —  their   all;    not   grace,   address, 
But   moral   worth   and   happiness. 
Ne'er   is   the   heart   so   off  its   guard. 
The   way   for   vice   so   low   unbarred, 
As   when   we   eager   read   alone, 
A    book    with    dangerous    doctrines    strown : 
And   many  a   volume   seeming   fair. 
Has   a   dark   serpent  lurking   there ; 


108  OCCASIONAL   PIECES. 

As,    coiled   within   the   luscious   food, 

The   deadly  asp   of  Egypt's    Queen, 
And   noticed   not   till   the   mad  blood 

Speaks   the    death -fever  fired   within. 
The   lonely   seed   borne   to   some   distant   isle, 
O'erspreads   the   whole    with    rankest   growth    the  while; 
A   single   volume  —  nay,   a   single   thought  — 
Oft  with   a   harvest   of  destruction's   fraught. 
Blest  the  parental   love   that   watchful   weaves 

Deep   hedges   round   the   young   heart's   virgin   soil; 
And   scatters   there   the   seeds   of  future   sheaves, 

In   heaven   a   harvest  for   his   tears   and   toil. 

Again  we   part;    each   on   life's   dusty   road. 

To   bear  of  toil   and  grief  his   portioned   load; 

Yet   when   the   nightfall   of  the   closing  year 

From   toil   releases,    will   we   gather  here; 

The   friendly  love   of  by -gone   days   renew; 

The  joys   and   sorrows   of  the   year  review ; 

Yet   still   more   blest,    if  on   nest  New    Year's   even, 

We   greet'  each   other,    saints   redeemed,   in   heaven. 

January  1, 1856. 


44 


i  \\M 


'i  ^ 


Wf 


